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THE  LITTLE  COLONEL'S  CHUM: 
MARY  WARE 


Works  of 
ANNIE  FELLOWS  JOHNSTON 


The  Little  Colonel  Series 

{Trade  Mark,  Reg.  U.  S.  Pat.  Of.) 
Each  one  vol.,   large  12mo,   cloth,   illustrated 

The   Little   Colonel    Stories      ..... 
(Containing    in     one    volume     the    three     stories, 
"  The    Little    Colonel,"    "  The    Giant    Scissors, 
and   "  Two   Little  Knights   of  Kentucky.") . 

The  Little  Colonel's  House  Party   . 

The  Little  Colonel's  Holidays 

The  Little  Colonel's  Hero        .... 

The  Little  Colonel  at  Boarding-School     . 

The  Little  Colonel  in  Arizona  .     _     . 

The  Little  Colonel's  Christmas    Vacation 

The  Little  Colonel:  Maid  of  Honor 

The  Little  Colonel's  Knight  Comes    Riding 

The  Little  Colonel's  Chum:    Mary   Ware 

Mary  Ware    in   Texas      .  .  ... 

Mary  Ware's   Promised    Land 

The  above  12  vols.,  boxed,  as  a  set 


The  Little  Colonel  Good  Times  Book      . 
The  Little  Colonel  Doll  Book— First    Scries    . 
The  Little  Colonel  Doll  Book— Second    Series 

Illustrated  Holiday  Edition 

The  Little  Colonel  Stories         . 

(With  16  plates  in  full  color,  and  many  marginal 
cuts  in  tints.) 

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The   Little   Colonel 
The  Giant  Scissors 
Two  Little  Knights  of  Kentucky 
Big  Brother     .... 
Ole  Mammy's  Torment   . 
The  Story  of  Dago 
Cicely      ..... 
Aunt  'Liza's  Hero 
The  Quilt  that  Jack  Built 
Flip's  "  Islands  of  Providence  " 
Mildred's    Inheritance 
The  Little  Man  in  Motley 

Other  Books 

The  Story  of  the  Red  Cross    .  a 

Joel:    A  Boy  of  Galilee    .  . 

The  Road  of  the  Loving  Heart 

In  the  Desert  of  Waiting 

The  Three   Weavers 

Keeping  Tryst  .... 

The  Legend  of  the  Bleeding  Heart 

The  Rescue  of  the  Princess  Winsome 

The  Jester's   Sword 

Asa   Holmes  .... 

Travelers  Five  Along  Life's  Highway 


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THE    PAGE    COMPANY 


S3  Beacon  Street 


Boston,  Mass. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

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"   HER    KEEN    GRAY    EYES    SWEPT    HIM    ONE    QUICK   LOOK." 

{.Seepage  4) 


m. 


m  Cittie  coioners 

€bunt:  mm  U)m 

By  ANNIE  FELLOWS  JOHNSTON 

Author  of"  The  Little  Colonel  Series,"  "  Bi£  Brother," 

"  Ole  Mammy's  Torment,"  "  Joel :  A  Boy  of 

Galilee,"  "  Asa  Holmes,"  etc. 

Illustrated  by  ETHELDRED  B.  BARRY 


BOSTON    *    THE    PAGE 
COMPANY    *     PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1908 

By  L.  C.  Page  and  Company 

(incorporated) 

Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London 

All  rights  reserved 


Made  in  U.  S.  A. 


Sixteenth   Impression,  June,   1925 


PRINTED   BY   C.  H.  SIMONDS    COMPANY 
BOSTON,  MASS.,  U.S.A. 


Co 
itt.  (3.  % 


-   -   :  J3S 


Preface 


©ear  38ops  an*  ©trig  Wla  8re  ©Hi  friends  of  tfc 
Little  Colonel: 

When  I  finished  the  eighth  volume  of  the  Little 
Colonel  Stories,  The  Maid  of  Honour,  I  thought  I 
had  reached  the  end  of  the  series,  but  such  a  flood 
of  letters  came  pouring  in  demanding  to  know  what 
happened  next,  that  I  could  not  ignore  such  a  plea, 
and  in  consequence  The  Little  Colonel's  Knight 
came  riding  by. 

But  even  with  Lloyd  married  and  "  living  hap- 
pily ever  after "  her  friends  were  not  satisfied. 
"  You  skipped  "  they  complained  by  the  hundreds. 
"  You  never  told  what  happened  between  the  time 
of  her  engagement  and  the  wedding,  and  you  never 
told  what  happened  to  Betty  and  Joyce  and  Mary 
and  Phil  and  all  the  rest  of  them.  Even  if  you 
haven't  time  for  another  book,  couldn't  you  just 
please  write  me  a  little  letter  and  satisfy  my  curi- 
osity about  each  character  " 


viii  PREFACE 

Of  course  I  couldn't  begin  granting  all  those  re- 
quests, and  finally  I  was  persuaded  it  would  be 
easier  to  answer  your  questions  with  a  new  book. 
So  here  is  Mary  Ware,  taking  up  the  thread  of  the 
story  at  the  first  of  the  skipped  places.  The  time 
is  September,  the  same  September  that  Betty  went 
away  to  Warwick  Hall  to  teach  and  Lloyd  began  to 
prepare  for  her  debut  in  Louisville. 

Now  this  volume  covers  only  one  short  year,  so 
of  course  it  can  not  tell  you  all  you  want  to  know. 
But  if  you  are  disappointed  because  it  does  not  take 
you  to  the  final  milestone,  remember  that  had  we 
gone  that  far  it  would  have  been  the  end  of  all  our 
journeying  together.  And  we  have  it  from  our 
Tusitala  himself,  that  best  beloved  of  travellers,  for 
whom  in  a  far  island  of  the  sea  was  dug  "  a  Road 
to  last  for  ever,"  that  "  to  travel  hopefully  is  a  better 
thing  than  to  arrive."  a.  f.  j. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  FAGR 

I.    Mary  Enters  Warwick 1 

II.    "  The  King's  Call  " iS 

III.  Room  -  mates 37 

IV.  "  Aye,  There's  the  Rub  ! "  .       .       .56 
V.  A  Fad  and  a  Christmas  Fund        .       .       .81 

VI.    Jack's  Watch  -  fob 103 

VII.    In  Joyce's  Studio 125 

VIII.  Christmas  Day  at  Eugenia's  .       .       .       .141 

IX.  The  Bride  -  cake  Shilling  Comes  to  Light    163 

X.  Her  Seventeenth  Birthday    .       .       .       .190 

XI.  Trouble  for  Everybody   .....    205 

XII.    The  Good  -  bye  Gate 222 

XIII.  The  Jester's  Sword 237 

XIV.  Back  at  Lone  -  Rock 262 

XV.    Keeping  Tryst 286 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

— * — 

PAGB 

Her  keen  gray  eyes  swept  him  one  quick  look  " 

{See  page  4) Frontispiece 

Lay  back  under  its  sheltering  canopy  with  a 

suppressed  giggle  " 52 

Instead,  it  seemed  as  if  a  small  cyclone  swept 

through  the  room  " 79 

The  girlish  figure  enveloped  in  a  long  loose 

working  apron  " 1 25 

She  was  a  fascinating  little  creature,  all  smiles 

and  dimples  " i53 

All  she  saw  was  the  teller's  window,  with  a 

shrewd  -  eyed  man  behind  its  bars  "  .  .  .  172 
Out  on  the  porch  she  heard  from  Norman  how 

it  had  happened  " 263 

When  she  drove  a  nail  it  held  things  together  "    280 


THE  LITTLE  COLONEL'S  CHUM: 
MARY  WARE 


CHAPTER    I 

MARY   ENTERS    WARWICK    HALL 

THk  *bus  running  between  Warwick  Hall  Station 
and  Warwick  Hall  school  drew  up  at  the  door  of 
the  great  castle-like  building  with  as  grand  a  flour- 
ish as  if  it  carried  the  entire  Senior  class,  and 
deposited  one  lone  passenger  upon  the  steps.  As 
it  was  several  days  before  the  opening  of  the  Fall 
term,  no  pupils  were  expected  so  soon,  and  but  few 
of  the  teachers  had  returned.  There  was  no  on? 
to  see  the  imposing  arrival  of  the  little  Freshman 
except  the  butler,  who  had  been  drawn  to  the  front 
window  by  the  sound  of  wheels.  It  devolved  on 
him  to  answer  the  knocker  this  afternoon.  In  the 
general  confusion  of  house-cleaning  the  man  who 
attended  the  door  had  been  sent  up  stairs  to  hang 
eurtains. 


»  MARY  WARE 

That  the  newcomer  was  a  prospective  pupil,  Haw- 
kins saw  at  a  glance.  He  had  not  been  in  Madam 
Chartley's  service  all  these  years  without  learning  a 
few  things.  That  she  was  over-awed  by  the  mag- 
nificence of  her  surroundings  he  readily  guessed, 
for  she  made  no  movement  towards  the  knocker, 
only  stood  and  looked  timidly  up  at  the  massive 
portal  and  then  across  the  lawn,  where  a  line  of 
haughty  peacocks  stood  drawn  up  in  gorgeous  dress 
parade  on  the  highest  terrace. 

"  She's  feeling  like  a  cat  in  a  strange  garret," 
said  the  butler  to  himself  with  a  grin.  It  was  a 
matter  of  personal  pride  with  him  when  strangers 
seemed  duly  impressed  by  the  grandeur  of  this 
aristocratic  old  manor-house,  now  used  as  a  board- 
ing-school. It  was  a  personal  affront  when  they 
were  not.  Needless  to  say  his  dignity  had  suffered 
much  at  the  hands  of  American  school-girls,  and 
although  this  one  seemed  impressed  by  her  sur- 
roundings almost  to  the  point  of  panic,  he  eyed  her 
suspiciously. 

"  'Eaven  knows  they  lose  their  shyness  soon 
henough !  "  he  said  under  his  breath.  "  She  can  just 
cool  'er  'eels  on  the  doorstep  till  she  gets  courage 
to  knock.    'Twull  do  'er  good." 

But  she  waited  so  long  that  he  began  to  grow 


THE   LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  3 

uneasy.  After  that  first  glance  she  had  turned  her 
back  on  the  door  as  if  she  repented  coming,  and, 
satchel  in  hand,  stood  hesitating  on  the  top  step 
«*eady  for  flight.  At  least  that  is  the  way  Haw- 
kins interpreted  her  attitude.  He  could  not  see  her 
face. 

It  was  a  plain  little  face,  sunburned  as  a  gypsy's, 
with  a  generous  sprinkling  of  freckles  on  her  in- 
quisitive nose.  But  it  was  a  lovable  face,  happy 
and  eager,  with  a  sweet  mouth  and  alert  gray  eyes 
that  seemed  to  see  to  the  bottom  of  everything. 
Sometimes  its  expression  made  it  almost  beautiful. 
This  was  one  of  the  times. 

She  was  not  gazing  regretfully  after  the  departed 
'bus  as  Hawkins  surmised,  but  with  a  pleasure  so 
keen  that  it  fairly  made  her  catch  her  breath,  she 
was  looking  at  the  strange  landscape  and  recog- 
nizing places  here  and  there,  made  familiar  by 
kodak  pictures,  and  the  enthusiastic  descriptions  of 
old  pupils.  There  was  the  long  flight  of  marble 
steps  leading  down  the  stately  terraces  to  the  river 
—  the  beautiful  willow-fringed  Potomac.  There 
was  the  pergola  overhung  with  Abbots  ford  ivy, 
and  the  wonderful  old  garden  with  the  sun-dial, 
and  the  rhododendrons  from  Killarney.  She  had 
heard  so  much  about  this  place  that  it  had  grown 


4  MARY   WARE 

to  be  a  sort  of  enchanted  land  of  dreams  to  her, 
and  now  the  thought  that  she  was  actually  here  in 
the  midst  of  it  made  her  draw  in  her  breath  with 
a  delicious  little  shiver. 

Hawkins,  from  his  peep-hole  through  one  of  the 
mullioned  sidelights  of  the  great  entrance,  to  which 
he  had  now  advanced,  saw  the  shiver,  and  misin- 
terpreting it,  suddenly  opened  the  door.  It  gave 
her  such  a  start,  so  absorbed  had  she  been  in  her 
surroundings,  that  she  almost  toppled  down  the 
steps.  But  the  next  instant  it  was  Hawkins  who 
was  having  the  start.  Unabashed  by  his  pompous 
manner,  her  keen  gray  eyes  swept  him  one  quick 
look  from  his  sphinx-like  face  to  his  massive  shoe- 
buckles,  as  if  she  had  been  given  some  strange  bo- 
tanical specimen  to  label  and  classify.  Without  an 
instant's  hesitation  she  exclaimed  in  the  tone  of  one 
making  a  delightful  discovery,  "  Why,  it's  Haw- 
kins! " 

It. was  positively  uncanny  to  the  man  that  this 
stranger  on  whom  he  had  never  laid  eyes  before 
should  call  him  by  name.  He  wondered  if  she  were 
one  of  these  new-fangled  mind-readers  he  had  been 
hearing  so  much  about.  It  was  also  upsetting  to 
find  that  he  had  been  mistaken  about  her  delay  in 
knocking.     There  was  anything  but  timidity  in  the 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  5 

grand  air  with  which  she  gave  him  her  card,  saying, 
"  Announce  me  to  Madam  Chartley,  Hawkins." 

She  was  a  plump  little  body,  ill  adapted  to  stately 
airs  and  graces,  but  she  had  been  rehearsing  this 
entrance  mentally  for  days,  and  she  swept  into  the 
reception  room  as  if  she  were  the  daughter  of  a 
duke. 

"  There ! "  she  said  to  herself  as  the  portieres 
dropped  behind  her.  "  I  hope  he  was  properly  im- 
pressed." Then  catching  sight  of  her  reflection  in 
a  long  mirror  opposite,  she  wilted  into  an  attitude 
of  abject  despair.  A  loop  of  milliner's  wire,  from 
which  the  ribbon  had  slipped,  stood  up  stiff  and 
straight  in  the  bow  on  her  hat.  She  proceeded  to 
put  it  back  in  place  with  anxious  pats  and  touches, 
exclaiming  in  an  anguished  whisper, 

"  Oh,  why  is  it,  that  whenever  I  feel  particularly 
imposing  and  Queen  Annish  inside,  I  always  look 
so  dishevelled  and  Mary  Annish  outside!  Here's 
my  hat  cocked  over  one  eye  and  my  hair  straggling 
out  in  wisps  like  a  crazy  thing.  I  wonder  what 
Hawkins  thought." 

Hawkins,  on  his  way  up  stairs  was  spelling  out 
the  name  on  the  card  he  carried.  "  Miss  Mary 
Ware,   Phoenix,   Arizona." 

"  Humph !  "  was  his  mental  exclamation.   "  From 


6  MARY  WARE 

one  of  the  jumping  hoff  places."  Then  his  mind 
reverted  to  the  several  detective  tales  that  made  up 
his  knowledge  of  the  far  West.  "  'Ope  she  doesn't 
carry  a  gun  'idden  lion  'er  person." 

Now  that  the  first  ordeal  was  over  and  she  was 
safely  inside  the  doors  of  Warwick  Hall,  the  new 
pupil  braced  herself  for  the  next  one,  the  meeting 
with  Madam  Chartley.  She  wouldn't  have  been 
quite  so  nervous  over  it  if  she  had  been  sure  of  a 
welcome,  but  the  catalogue  stated  distinctly  that  no 
pupils  could  be  received  before  the  fifteenth  of  Sep- 
tember, and  this  was  only  the  twelfth.  She  had  the 
best  of  reasons  for  coming  ahead  of  time,  and  was 
sure  that  Madam  Chartley  would  make  an  excep- 
tion in  her  case  when  once  the  matter  was  properly 
explained.  The  friends  in  whose  care  she  had  trav- 
elled from  Phoenix '  had  expected  to  spend  several 
days  in  Washington,  sight-seeing,  and  she  was  to 
have  been  their  guest  until  the  opening  of  school. 
But  a  telegram  met  them  calling  them  immediately 
to  Boston.  She  couldn't  stay  alone  at  a  strange 
hotel,  she  knew  no  one  in  the  entire  city,  and  th°re 
was  no  course  open  to  her  but  to  come  on  to  school. 

It  was  easy  enough  for  her  to  see  why  she  might 
not  be  welcome.  There  was  a  vigorous  washing 
of  windows  going  on  over  the  whole  establishment, 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  7 

a  sound  of  carpenters  in  the  background  and  a  smell 
of  fresh  paint  and  furniture  polish  to  the  fore. 
Everything  was  out  of  its  usual  orbit  in  the  process 
of  getting  ready  for  the  opening  day. 

Lying  awake  the  night  before  in  the  upper  berth 
of  the  hot  Pullman  car,  Mary  had  carefully  planned 
her  little  speech  of  explanation,  and  had  rehearsed 
it  a  dozen  times  since.  But  now  her  heart  was 
beating  so  fast  and  her  throat  was  so  dry  she  knew 
the  words  would  stick  at  the  very  time  she  needed 
them  most.  Feeling  as  if  she  were  about  to  have 
a  tooth  pulled,  she  sank  into  a  large  upholstered 
rocking  chair  to  wait.  It  tipped  back  so  far  that  her 
toes  could  not  reach  the  floor,  and  she  sprang  out 
again  in  a  hurry.  One  could  never  feel  at  ease  in 
an  infantile  position  like  that. 

Then  she  tried  a  straight  chair,  imitating  the  pose 
of  a  majestic  gentlewoman  in  one  of  the  portraits 
on  the  panelled  wall.  It  was  one  of  Madam's 
grand  ancestors  she  conjectured.  A  glance  into 
the  tell-tale  mirror  made  her  sigh  despairingly 
again.  She  was  not  built  on  majestic  lines  her- 
self. No  matter  how  queenly  and  imposing  she 
might  feel  in  that  attitude,  she  only  looked  ridicu- 
lously stiff. 

Once  more  she  changed  her  seat,  flouncing  down 


8  MARY   WARE 

on  a  low  sofa,  and  struggling  for  a  graceful  posi- 
tion with  one  elbow  leaning  on  a  huge  silk  cushion. 
It  was  in  all  seriousness  that  she  made  these 
changes,  realizing  that  she  could  not  appear  at  her 
best  unless  she  felt  at  ease.  But  the  humour  of 
the  situation  was  not  lost  on  her.  An  amused 
smile  dimpled  her  face  as  she  gave  the  sofa  cushion 
a  thump  and  once  more  changed  her  seat.  "  I'm 
worse  than  Goldilocks  trying  all  the  chairs  of  the 
three  bears,  but  that's  too  loppy!" 

She  whisked  into  a  fourth  seat,  this  time  opposite 
the  portieres.  To  her  consternation  the  parted  cur- 
tains revealed  an  appalling  fact.  Not  only  could 
the  winding  stairway  be  seen  from  where  she  sat, 
but  the  entire  interior  of  the  reception  room  must 
be  equally  visible  to  any  one  coming  down  the  steps. 
The  dignified  white-haired  Personage  now  on  the 
bottom  step  must  have  seen  every  move  she  made 
as  she  darted  around  the  room  trying  the  chairs 
in  turn. 

The  faint  gleam  of  suppressed  amusement  on 
Madam  Chartley's  face  as  she  entered,  confirmed 
the  girl's  fears.  It  was  unthinkable  that  such  a 
mortifying  situation  should  go  unexplained,  yet 
for  a  moment  after  Madam's  courteous  greeting 
Mary  stood  tongue-tied.  Then  she  burst  out,  her 
face  fairly  purple: 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  g 

"  Oh,  I  wish  you  could  change  places  with  me  for 
just  five  minutes!  Then  you'd  know  how  it  feels 
to  always  put  your  worst  foot  first  and  make  a  mess 
of  everything !  " 

Madam  Chartley  had  welcomed  many  types  of 
girls  to  her  school  and  was  familiar  with  every 
shade  of  embarrassment,  but  she  had  never  been 
greeted  with  quite  such  an  outburst  as  this.  Des- 
perate to  make  herself  understood,  Mary  began  in 
the  middle  of  her  carefully  planned  speech  and 
breathlessly  explained  backward,  as  to  why  she  had 
arrived  at  this  inopportune  time.  The  explanation 
was  so  characteristic  of  her,  so  heart- felt  and  ut- 
terly honest,  that  it  revealed  far  more  than  she  in- 
tended and  opened  a  wide  door  into  Madam's 
sympathies.  As  she  stood  looking  down  at  the  girl 
with  grave  kind  eyes,  Mary  suddenly  became  aware 
of  a  strangely  comforting  thing.  This  was  not 
an  awesome  personage,  but  a  dear  adorable  being 
who  could  understand.  The  discovery  made  the 
second  part  of  her  explanation  easier.  She  plunged 
into  it  headlong  as  soon  as  they  were  seated. 

"  You  see,  I've  heard  so  much  about  Hawkins 
and  the  way  he  sometimes  confuses  the  new  girls 
with  his  grand  London  airs  till  they're  too  rattled 
to  eat,  that  I  made  up  my  mind  that  even  if  I  am 


10  MARY  WARE 

from  Arizona,  I'd  made  him  think  that  I've  always 
'  dwelt  in  marble  halls,  with  vassals  and  serfs  at 
my  side.'  I  thought  I  was  making  a  perfectly  regal 
entrance,  till  I  looked  into  the  mirror  and  saw  how 
dilapidated  I  was  after  my  long  journey.  It  took 
all  the  heart  out  of  me  and  made  me  dreadfully 
nervous  about  meeting  you.  I  was  trying  to  get 
into  an  easy  attitude  that  would  make  me  feel  more 
self-possessed  when  you  came  down.  That  is  why 
I  was  experimenting  with  all  the  sofas  and  chairs. 
Oh,  you've  no  idea  how  the  Walton  girls  and  Lloyd 
Sherman  and  Betty  Lewis  have  talked  about  you,'* 
she  went  on  hurriedly,  eager  to  justify  herself. 
"  They  made  me  feel  that  you  were  —  well  —  er  — 
sort  of  like  royalty  you  know.  That  one  ought  to 
courtesy  and  back  out  from  your  presence  as  they 
do  at  court." 

Madam  laughed  an  appreciative  little  laugh  that 
showed  a  thorough  enjoyment  of  the  situation. 
"  But  when  you  saw  that  the  girls  were  mis- 
taken —  " 

Mary  interrupted  hurriedly,  blushing  again  in 
her  confusion.  "  No,  no!  they  were  not  mistaken! 
You're  exactly  as  they  described  you,  only  they 
didn't  tell  me  how  —  how  —  er,"  she  groped  fran- 
tically for  the  word  and  finished  lamely,  "  how  hu- 
man you  are." 


THE   LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  n 

She  had  started  to  say  "  how  adorable  you  are," 
but  checked  herself,  afraid  it  would  sound  too  gush- 
ing on  first  acquaintance,  although  that  was  ex- 
actly what  she  felt. 

"  I  mean/'  she  continued,  in  her  effort  to  be  un- 
derstood, "  it  seems  from  the  way  you  put  yourself 
in  my  place  so  quickly,  that  once  upon  a  time  you 
must  have  been  the  same  kind  of  girl  that  I  am. 
But  of  course  I  know  you  were  not.  You  were 
Lloyd  Sherman's  kind.  She  just  naturally  does 
the  right  thing  in  the  right  place,  and  there's  no  oc- 
casion for  her  being  a  copy-cat.  That's  what  Jack 
calls  me.    Jack  is  my  brother." 

Madam  laughed  again,  such  an  appreciative, 
friendly  laugh,  that  Mary  joined  in,  wondering  how 
the  other  girls  could  think  her  cold  and  unapproach- 
able. It  seemed  to  her  that  Madam  was  one  of  the 
most  responsive  and  sympathetic  listeners  she  had 
ever  had,  and  it  moved  her  to  go  on  with  her  con- 
fidences. 

"  Jack  says  I  am  not  built  on  the  same  lines  as 
the  Princess.  Princess  Winsome  is  one  of  our 
names  for  Lloyd.  And  he  says  it  is  ridiculous .  for 
me  to  try  to  do  things  the  way  she  does.  He  is 
always  quoting  Epictetus  to  me :  '  Were  I  a  nightin- 
gale I  would  act  the  part  of  a  nightingale;  were  I 


12  MARY   WARE 

a  swan,  the  part  of  a  swan.'  He  says  that  trying 
to  copy  her  is  what  makes  me  just  plain  goose  so 
much  of  the  time." 

Madam  Chartley,  long  accustomed  to  reading 
girls,  knew  that  it  was  not  vanity  or  egotism  which 
prompted  these  confessions,  only  a  girlish  eager- 
ness to  be  measured  by  her  highest  ideals  and  not 
by  appearances.  She  saw  at  a  glance  the  possi- 
bilities of  the  material  that  lay  here  at  her  hand. 
Out  of  it  might  be  wrought  a  strong,  helpful  char- 
acter such  as  the  world  always  needs,  and  such  as 
she  longed  to  send  out  with  every  graduate  who 
passed  through  her  doors.  Many  things  were 
awaiting  her  attention  elsewhere,  but  she  lingered 
to  extend  their  acquaintance  a  trifle  further. 

"  You  know  Lloyd  Sherman  well,  I  believe,"  she 
said.  "  I  remember  that  you  gave  Mrs.  Sherman 
as  one  of  your  references  when  you  applied  for  ad- 
mission to  the  school,  and  I  had  a  highly  satisfac- 
tory letter  from  her  about  you  in  reply  to  my  in- 
quiry. Now  that  we  speak  of  it  I  am  reminded  that 
Lloyd  added  a  most  enthusiastic  post-script  con- 
cerning you." 

Mary's  face  flushed  with  a  pleasure  so  intense  it 
was  almost  painful.  "Oh,  did  she?"  she  cried 
eagerly.     "  We've  been  friends  always,  even  with 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  13 

half  a  continent  between  us.  Our  mothers  were 
school-mates.  Lloyd  was  more  Joyce's  friend  than 
mine  at  first,  because  they  are  nearer  of  an  age. 
(Joyce  is  my  sister.  She's  an  artist  now  in  New 
York  City,  and  we  think  she's  going  to  be  famous 
some  day.  She  does  such  beautiful  designing.) 
Lloyd  has  been  my  model  ever  since  I  was  eleven 
years  old.  I'd  rather  be  like  her  than  anybody  I 
ever  knew  or  read  of,  so  I  don't  mind  Jack  calling 
me  a  copy-cat  for  trying.  One  of  the  reasons  I 
wanted  to  come  to  Warwick  Hall  was  that  she  had 
been  here.  Would  you  believe  it?"  she  rattled  on, 
"  Last  night  on  the  sleeping-car  I  counted  up  forty- 
two  good  reasons  for  wanting  to  come  here  to 
school." 

It  had  been  many  a  moon  since  Mary's  remarks 
had  met  with  such  flattering  attention.  Not  realiz- 
ing she  was  being  studied  she  felt  that  Madam  was 
genuinely  interested.     It  encouraged  her  to  go  on. 

"  Jack  gave  me  my  choice  of  all  the  schools  in 
the  United  States,  and  I  chose  this  without  hesita- 
ting an  instant.  Jack  is  paying  my  expenses  you 
know.  I  couldn't  have  come  a  step  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  him,  and  there  wouldn't  have  been  the 
faintest  shadow  of  a  hope  of  coming  if  he  hadn't 
been  promoted  to  the  position  of  assistant  manager 


14  MARY   WARE 

at  the  mines.  Oh,  Madam  Chartley,  I  wish  you 
knew  Jack!  He's  just  the  dearest  brother  that 
ever  lived!  So  unselfish  and  so  ambitious  for  us 
all "  — 

She  stopped  abruptly,  feeling  that  she  was  let- 
ting her  enthusiasm  run  away  with  her  tongue. 
But  Madam,  noting  the  quick  leap  of  light  to  her 
eyes  and  the  eager  clasping  of  her  hands  as  she  spoke 
of  him  wanted  to  hear  more.  She  was  sure  that 
in  these  naive  confessions  she  would  find  the  key- 
note to  Mary's  character.  So  with  a  few  well 
chosen  questions  she  encouraged  her  to  go  on,  till 
she  had  gathered  a  very  accurate  idea  of  the  con- 
ditions which  had  produced  this  wholesome  enthu- 
siastic little  creature,  almost  a  woman  in  some  re- 
spects, the  veriest  child  in  others. 

Mary  had  had  an  uneventful  life,  she  judged, 
limited  to  the  narrow  bounds  of  a  Kansas  village, 
and  later  to  the  still  narrower  circle  of  experiences 
in  the  lonely  little  home  they  had  made  on  the  edge 
of  the  desert,  when  Mrs.  Ware's  quest  of  health 
led  them  to  Arizona.  But  it  was  a  life  that  had 
been  lifted  out  of  the  ordinary  by  the  brave  spirit 
which  made  a  jest  of  poverty,  and  held  on  to  the 
refining  influences  even  while  battling  back  the  woK 
from  the  door.     It  had  made  a  family  of  phi- 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  1$ 

losophers  of  them,  able  to  extract  pleasure  from 
trifles,  and  to  find  it  where  most  people  would  never 
dream  of  looking. 

As  she  listened,  Madam  began  to  feel  warmly 
drawn  to  the  entire  family  who  had  taken  the  good 
old  Vicar  of  Wakefield  for  an  example,  and  adopted 
one  of  his  sayings  as  a  rule  of  life :  "  Let  us  be 
inflexible  and  fortune  will  at  last  turn  in  our 
favour." 

Mary  had  no  intention  of  revealing  so  much  per- 
sonal history,  but  she  had  to  quote  the  motto  to 
show  how  triumphantly  it  had  worked  out  in  their 
case  and  what  a  grand  turn  fortune  had  taken 
in  their  favour  after  so  many  years  of  struggle  to 
keep  inflexible  in  the  face  of  repeated  disappoint- 
ments and  troubles.  It  had  turned  for  all  of  them. 
Joyce,  after  several  years  of  work  and  worry  with 
her  bees,  had  realized  enough  from  them  to  start 
on  her  career  as  an  artist.  Holland  was  at  An- 
napolis in  training  for  the  navy.  Within  the  last 
six  weeks  Jack's  promotion  had  made  possible  his 
heart's  desire,  to  send  Mary  to  school  and  to  bring 
his  mother  and  thirteen  year  old  brother  to  Lone- 
Rock,  the  little  mining  town  where  he  had  been 
boarding,  ever  since  Mr.  Sherman  gave  him  his 
first  position  there,  several  years  before. 


l6  MARY   WARE 

Mary  was  so  bubbling  over  with  the  pleasure 
these  things  gave  her  that  it  was  impossible  not 
to  feel  some  share  of  it  when  one  looked  at  her. 
As  Madam  Chartley  led  the  way  to  the  office  she 
felt  a  desire  to  add  still  more  to  her  pleasure.  It 
was  refreshing  to  see  some  one  who  could  enjoy 
even  little  things  so  thoroughly.  She  bent  over  the 
ledger  a  moment,  scanning  the  page  containing  the 
list  of  Freshmen  who  had  passed  the  strict  entrance 
requirements. 

"  I  had  already  assigned  you  to  a  room,"  she 
said,  "  but  from  what  you  tell  me  I  fancy  you 
would  count  it  a  privilege  to  be  given  Lloyd's  old 
room.  If  that  is  so  I'll  gladly  make  the  change,  al- 
though I  do  not  know  whether  the  other  girl  as- 
signed to  that  room  will  prove  as  congenial  a  com- 
panion to  you  as  the  first  selection.  Her  mother 
asked  for  that  particular  room,  so  I  cannot  well 
change." 

Mary's  face  grew  radiant.  "  Oh,  Madam  Chart- 
ley  !  "  she  cried.  "  I'd  room  with  a  Hottentot  for 
a  chance  to  stay  inside  the  four  walls  that  held 
the  Princess  all  her  school-days.  You  don't  know 
how  much  it  means  to  me!  You've  made  me  the 
happiest  girl  on  the  face  of  the  globe." 

"  It's  a  far  cry  from  Ethelinda  Hurst  to  a  Hot- 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  17 

tentot,"  laughed  Madam  Chartley.  "  She  comes 
from  one  of  the  wealthiest  homes  in  the  suburbs 
of  Chicago,  and  has  had  every  advantage  that 
civilization  can  offer.  She's  been  abroad  eight 
times,  I  believe,  and  has  always  studied  at  home 
under  private  tutors.    She's  an  only  daughter." 

"  How  interesting !  That  will  be  lots  more  di- 
verting than  a  room-mate  who  has  always  done  the 
same  common-place  things  that  I  have.  Oh,  you've 
no  idea  how  hard  I'm  going  to  work  to  deserve  all 
this!  I  wrote  to  Jack  last  night  that  I  intend  to 
tackle  school  this  year  just  the  way  I  used  to  kill 
snakes  —  with  all  my  might  and  main !  " 

An  amused  expression  crossed  Madam  Chart- 
ley's  face  again.  She  was  thinking  of  Ethelinda 
and  the  possible  effect  the  two  girls  might  have  on 
each  other.  At  any  rate  it  was  an  experiment  worth 
trying.  It  might  prove  beneficial  to  them  both. 
She  turned  to  Mary  with  a  smile,  and  pressed  a 
button  beside  her  desk. 

"  Your  trunk  shall  be  sent  up  as  soon  as  the  men 
find  time  to  attend  to  it.  In  the  meantime  you  may 
take  possession  of  your  room  as  soon  as  you  please." 


CHAPTER  II 

"  THE  KING'S  CALL  " 

Left  to  herself  in  the  room  which  she  was  to 
occupy  for  the  year,  Mary  stood  looking-  around 
with  the  keen  interest  of  an  explorer.  It  was  a 
pleasant  room,  with  two  windows  looking  out  over 
the  river  and  two  over  the  garden.  To  an  ordinary 
observer  it  had  no  claim  to  superiority  over  the 
other  apartments,  but  to  Mary  it  was  a  sort  of 
shrine.  Here  in  the  low  chair  by  the  window  her 
Princess  Winsome  had  sat  to  read  and  study  and 
dream  all  through  her  school  days. 

Here  was  the  mirror  that  had  caught  her  passing 
reflection  so  often,  that  it  still  seemed  to  hold  a 
thousand  shadowy  semblances  of  her  in  its  shining 
depths.  Only  the  June  before  (three  short  months 
ago)  she  had  stood  in  front  of  it  in  all  the  glory 
of  her  Commencement  gown. 

Mary  crossed  the  room  on  tiptoe,  smiling  at  the 
recollection  of  one  of  her  early  make-believes.  Oh, 
if  it  were  only  true  that  one  could  pass  through  the 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  ig 

looking-glass  into  the  wonderland  behind  it,  what 
a  charming  picture  gallery  she  would  find !  All  the 
girls  who  had  occupied  the  room  since  Warwick 
Hall  had  been  a  school!  Blue  eyes  and  brown, 
laughing  faces  and  wistful  ones,  girls  in  gorgeous 
full  dress,  pluming  themselves  for  some  evening 
entertainment,  girls  in  dainty  undress  and  unbound 
hair,  exchanging  bed-time  confidences  as  they  pre- 
pared for  the  night,  ambitious  little  saints  and  friv- 
olous little  sinners  —  they  were  all  there,  somewhere 
in  the  dim  background  of  the  mirror,  and  because 
of  them  there  was  a  subtle  charm  about  the  room 
to  Mary,  which  she  would  not  have  felt  if  she  had 
been  its  first  occupant. 

"  It's  like  opening  an  old  drawer  to  drop  in  a 
handful  of  fresh  rose-leaves,  and  finding  it  sweet 
with  the  roses  of  a  dozen  Junes  gone  by,"  she  said 
to  herself,  so  pleased  with  the  fancy  that  she  went 
on  elaborating  it. 

"  And  Lloyd  has  been  here  so  lately  that  her 
rose-leaves  haven't  even  begun  to  wither." 

There  is  no  loyalty  like  the  loyalty  of  a  little 
school-girl  for  the  older  girl  whom  she  has  en- 
shrined in  her  heart  as  her  ideal;  no  sentiment  like 
the  intense  admiration  which  puts  a  halo  around 
everything  the  beloved  voice  ever  praised,  or  makes 


20  MARY   WARE 

sacred  everything  the  beloved  fingers  have  touched. 
Mary  Ware  at  sixteen  had  not  outgrown  any  of 
the  ardent  admiration  for  Lloyd  Sherman  which! 
had  seized  her  when  she  was  only  eleven,  and  now 
the  desire  to  be  like  her  flared  up  stronger  than 
ever. 

She  peered  wistfully  into  the  mirror,  thinking, 
"  Maybe  just  being  in  her  old  room  will  help,  be- 
cause I  shall  be  reminded  of  her  at  every  turn." 

For  a  moment  the  selfish  wish  was  uppermost 
that  she  need  not  share  the  room  with  any  one.  It 
seems  almost  desecration  for  a  person  who  did  not 
know  and  love  Lloyd  to  be  so  intimately  associated 
with  her.  But  Mary's  love  of  companionship  was 
strong.  Half  the  fun  of  boarding  school  in  her 
opinion  was  in  having  a  room-mate,  and  she  could 
not  forego  that  pleasure  even  for  the  sake  of  a  very 
deep  and  tender  sentiment.  But  she  made  the  most 
of  her  solitude  while  she  had  it.  From  kodak  pic- 
tures she  had  seen  of  the  room,  she  knew  at  a  glance 
which  of  the  narrow  white  beds  had  been  Lloyd's, 
and  immediately  pre-empted  it  for  herself,  staking 
out  her  claim  by  depositing  her  hat  and  gloves  upon 
it. 

As  soon  as  her  trunk  was  brought  up  stairs  she 
fell  to  work  unpacking,  with  an  energy  in  no  wise 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  21 

diminished  by  the  fatigue  of  the  tiresome  journey. 
She  had  been  cooped  up  on  the  cars  so  long  that 
she  was  fairly  aching  for  something  to  do.  In  an 
hour's  time  all  her  clothes  were  neatly  folded  or 
hung  away,  her  shoe-pocket  tacked  inside  the  closet 
door,  her  laundry-bag  hung  on  a  convenient  nail, 
her  few  pictures  arranged  in  a  group  over  her  bed, 
and  exactly  half  of  the  table  laid  out  with  her  port- 
folio, books  and  work-basket.  She  had  been  not 
only  just  but  generous  in  the  division  of  property. 
She  had  left  more  than  half  the  drawer  space  and 
closet  hooks  for  the  use  of  the  unknown  Ethelinda ; 
the  most  comfortable  chair,  and  the  best  lighted  end 
of  the  table.  That  was  because  she  herself  had  had 
first  choice  in  the  matter  of  bed  and  dressing  table, 
and  having  seized  upon  the  most  desirable  from  her 
point  of  view,  felt  that  she  owed  the  other  girl  some 
reparation.  Because  they  had  been  Lloyd's  she 
wanted  them  so  strongly  that  she  was  ready  to  sacri- 
fice everything  else  in  the  room  for  them,  or  even 
fight  for  their  possession  if  necessary. 

By  the  time  all  was  in  order,  the  tall  Lombardy 
poplars  were  throwing  long  shadows  on  the  green 
sward  of  the  terraces,  and  from  the  window  she 
could  see  the  garden,  lying  so  sweet  and  still  in  the 
drowse  oi  tne  late  afternoon  that  she  longed  to  be 


22  MARY   WARE 

down  in  it.  She  hurried  to  change  the  rumpled 
shirt-waist  in  which  she  had  finished  her  journey 
and  done  her  unpacking,  for  a  fresh  white  dress.  It 
was  proof  that  the  room  was  exerting  some  influ- 
ence to  make  her  like  her  model,  that  even  in  her 
haste  she  made  a  careful  toilet.  Remembering  how 
dainty  and  thorough-going  Lloyd  always  was  in 
her  dressing,  she  scrubbed  away  until  every  vestige 
of  travel-stain  was  gone.  All  fresh  and  rosy,  down 
to  her  immaculate  finger-tips,  she  scanned  herself 
in  the  mirror,  from  the  carefully  tied  bow  in  her 
hair  to  the  carefully  tied  bows  on  her  slippers,  and 
nodded  approvingly.  She  could  stand  inspection 
now  from  the  whole  row  of  them  —  all  those  girls 
on  the  other  side  of  the  looking-glass,  who  somehow 
seemed  so  near  and  real  to  her. 

As  she  turned  away  from  the  mirror,  her  glance 
rested  on  the  little  group  of  home  pictures  she  had 
put  up  over  her  bed.  The  tents  and  tiny  two- 
roomed  cottage  that  they  called  Ware's  Wigwam 
looked  small  and  cramped  compared  to  this  great 
Hall  with  its  wide  corridors  and  spacious  rooms.  It 
had  always  seemed  to  Mary  that  she  was  born  to 
live  in  kings'  houses,  she  so  enjoyed  luxurious  sur- 
roundings, but  a  homesick  pang  seized  her  now,  as 
she  looked  down  on  the  picture  and  remembered  that 
she  could  never  go  back  to  it. 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  23 

"  It  doesn't  seem  as  if  I  have  any  home  now,"  she 
sighed,  "  for  I  didn't  stay  long  enough  in  the  new 
place  at  Lone-Rock  to  get  used  to  it.  I  know  I 
shall  always  love  the  Wigwam  best,  and  when  I 
think  of  it  standing  empty  or  maybe  turned  over  to 
strangers,  it  makes  me  feel  as  if  one  of  my  best 
friends  had  died.  I'm  glad  we  took  so  many  pic- 
tures of  it,  and  that  I  kept  a  record  of  all  the  good 
times  we  had  there.  Oh,  that  reminds  me !  There's 
one  more  thing  I  must  do  before  sundown  —  bring 
my  diary  up  to  date.  I  haven't  written  a  line  in  it 
for  six  weeks." 

The  out-doors  was  too  alluring  to  waste  another 
moment  in  the  house,  however,  so  gathering  up  her 
diary  and  fountain-pen,  she  went  down  stairs  and 
out  into  the  garden,  feeling  as  the  gate  swung  to 
behind  her  that  she  was  stepping  into  an  old,  old 
English  garden  belonging  to  some  ducal  estate. 
Coming  as  she  did  straight  from  the  edge  of  the 
desert,  with  its  burning  stretches  of  sand,  its  cactus 
and  grease  wood,  its  bare  red  buttes  and  lank  rows 
of  cotton-wood  trees,  this  Eden  of  green  and  bloom 
had  a  double  charm  for  her. 

For  a  long  time  she  wandered  up  and  down  its 
winding  paths,  finding  many  a  shady  pleasance  hid- 
den away  among  its  labyrinths  of  hedges,  where  one 


24  MARY   WARE 

might  be  tempted  to  stop  and  dream  away  a  whole 
long  summer  afternoon.  But  she  did  not  pause 
until  she  came  to  a  sort  of  court  surrounded  by 
rustic  arbours,  where  a  fountain  splashed  in  the 
centre,  and  an  ancient  sun-dial  marked  the  hours. 
With  a  pleased  cry  of  recognition  she  ran  across  the 
closely  clipped  turf,  to  read  the  motto  carved  on  the 
dial's  face :  "  I  only  mark  the  hours  that  shine." 

"  The  very  words  that  Betty  wrote  in  my  Good 
Times  Book  the  day  she  gave  it  to  me,"  she  said, 
opening  her  diary  to  verify  the  motto  on  the  fly-leaf. 

"  It  was  beyond  my  wildest  dreams  then  that  I'd 
ever  be  standing  here  in  Warwick  Hall  garden, 
reading  them  for  myself!  I  mustn't  wait  another 
minute  to  make  a  record  of  this  good  time." 

Choosing  a  seat  in  one  of  the  arbours  where  a 
humming  bird  was  darting  in  and  out  through  a 
tangle  of  vines,  she  opened  the  thick  red  book  in 
which  she  had  kept  a  faithful  record  of  her  doings 
and  goings  for  the  last  two  years,  and  glanced  at 
the  last  entry.  The  date  was  such  an  old  one  that 
she  read  the  last  few  pages  to  refresh  her  memory. 

"  The  Wigwam,  Thursday,  August  4th. 
"  Jack  came  home  yesterday  to  our  joyful  sur- 
prise.    Mr.  Sherman  had  telegraphed  him  to  come 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  2$ 

at  once  to  Kentucky,  on  a  flying  trip  to  consult  with 
the  directors  of  the  mine.  As  he  had  to  pass 
through  Phoenix  anyhow,  he  managed  it  so  that  he 
could  stay  over  night  with  us.  I  am  so  happy  over 
the  prospect  of  his  having  a  chance  at  last  to  see 
our  '  Promised  Land  '  that  I  am  fairly  beside  my- 
self. I  sat  up  half  the  night  making  cookies  and 
gingerbread  and  rolls,  and  broiling  chickens  for  his 
lunch.  He  says  he's  been  hungry  for  home-cook- 
ing so  long  that  it  will  go  away  ahead  of  dining-car 
fare. 

"  Everything  turned  out  beautifully,  and  while  I 
waited  for  them  to  bake  I  wrote  a  list  of  the  things 
he  must  see  and  questions  he  must  ask  at  The  Lo- 
custs; things  I've  wanted  to  know  ever  since  I  came 
back  from  Lloydsboro  Valley,  and  yet  you  can't 
very  well  find  out  just  in  letters.  He  left  on  this 
morning's  early  train.  If  he  finds  he  can  take  the 
time,  he's  going  on  to  Annapolis  for  a  day,  just  to 
get  a  glimpse  of  Holland,  and  then  to  New  York  for 
a  day  and  a  half  with  Joyce.  Good  old  Jack !  He's 
certainly  earned  his  holiday.  I  can  hardly  wait  for 
him  to  come  home  and  tell  all  about  it." 

Spreading  the  book  out  on  her  knees,  Mary  ad- 
justed her  pen  and  began  to  write  rapidly,  for  word3 


26  MARY   WARE 

always  crowded  to  her  pen-point  as  they  did  to  her 
tongue,  with  a  rush. 

"  Warwick  Hall,   September  12. 

"  Little  did  I  think  when  I  wrote  that  last  line, 
that  six  whole  weeks  would  pass  before  I  added 
another,  or  that  my  next  entry  would  be  made  in 
this  beautiful  old  garden  that  I  have  dreamed  of  so 
long.  Little  did  I  think  I  would  be  sitting  here  be- 
side the  old  sun-dial,  or  that  such  an  hour  could 
shine  for  me  as  the  happy  hour  when  Jack  came 
back. 

"  I  drove  into  Phoenix  to  meet  him,  and  I  knew 
from  the  way  he  waved  his  hat  and  swung  off  the 
steps  before  the  train  stopped  that  he  had  good 
news,  and  it  was!  Perfectly  splendid!  They  had 
made  him  assistant  manager  of  the  mines,  with  a 
great  big  salary  that  would  make  a  change  in  all 
our  fortunes.  I  thought  it  was  queer  that  he  should 
bring  a  trunk  back  with  him,  for  he  went  away  with 
only  a  suit-case,  but  I  was  so  busy  asking  questions 
about  Joyce  and  Holland  and  everybody  at  The  Lo- 
custs, that  there  wasn't  time  or  breath  to  ask  about 
the  trunk.  We  were  half  way  home  before  he  got 
around  to  that. 

"  He  said  his  first  thought  when  they  told  him 


THE  LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  27 

of  his  promotion  was,  '  Now  Mary  can  have  her 
heart's  desire  and  go  away  to  school.'  And  on  the 
way  to  New  York  he  planned  it  all  out,  how  we'd 
give  up  the  Wigwam,  and  take  a  house  in  Lone- 
Rock,  and  he'd  get  some  one  to  help  Mamma  with 
the  work,  and  he'd  have  Norman  under  his  eye  all 
the  time  when  he  was  out  of  school,  and  keep  him 
out  of  mischief.  He's  been  wanting  Jo  do  that  ever 
since  he  went  to  the  mines,  for  there  never  was  such 
a  home-body.     He  can't  bear  to  board. 

"  Nearly  all  of  that  little  scrap  of  a  visit  he  and 
Joyce  had  together,  those  blessed  children  spent  in 
getting  my  clothes.  Joyce  has  all  my  measurements, 
and  they  got  me  three  dresses  and  a  hat  and  a  lot 
of  shirt-waists  and  gloves  and  fixings,  all  so  beauti- 
ful and  stylish  and  New  Yorkey,  and  the  fine  big 
trunk  to  put  them  in.  There  was  even  a  new  brush 
and  comb  and  mirror,  for  she  remembered  how 
ratty  looking  my  old  things  were.  And  there  was  a 
letter  portfolio  and  a  silk  umbrella  and  a  lot  of  odds 
and  ends  that  all  school-girls  need.  I  don't  believe 
they  overlooked  a  thing  to  make  my  outfit  com- 
plete, and  I  know  they're  as  nice  as  any  the  others 
will  have,  for  Joyce  has  such  good  taste  and  al- 
ways knows  just  what  is  fit  and  proper.  I  feel  so 
elegant  in  my  pretty  blue  travelling  suit,  and  I'm 


28  MARY  WARE 

just  aching  for  a  chance  to  wear  the  beautiful  little 
evening  dresses  they  chose,  one  white  pongee,  and 
the  other  some  new  sort  of  goods  that  looks  just 
like  a  soft  shimmery  cloud,  a  regular  picture  dress. 

"  Jack  went  on  to  the  mines  next  day,  and  after 
that  everything  was  in  a  whirl  till  we  were  moved 
and  settled,  for  there  was  so  much  to  do,  packing 
the  furniture  to  be  shipped,  and  after  we  got  to 
the  new  house  unpacking  again  and  shifting  things 
around  till  it  got  all  liveable  and  homelike.  By  that 
time  it  was  time  for  me  to  get  my  things  together 
and  go  down  to  Phcenix  to  meet  the  people  who  had 
offered  to  take  me  under  their  wing  on  their  way 
back  East.  Judge  and  Mrs.  Stockton  brought  me. 
I  must  remember  the  date  of  Mrs.  Stockton's  birth- 
day, November  the  fourth,  and  send  her  one  of 
those  bead  purses.  She  admired  the  one  she  saw 
me  making  so  much  that  I  know  she  would  like  it, 
and  she  certainly  was  an  angel  to  me  on  the  trip.  It 
seems  to  me  it's  my  luck  to  meet  nice  people  every- 
where I  go. 

"  I'm  not  going  to  wait  till  the  last  Thursday  in 
November  for  my  Thanksgiving  Day.  I've  got 
seven  good  reasons  for  thanksgiving  this  very  min- 
ute. First,  we  got  here  without  a  wreck.  Second, 
the  ribbon  on  my  hat  doesn't  show  a  single  spot, 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  29 

after  all  the  hard  shower  that  we  got  caught  in, 
that  I  thought  had  ruined  it.  Third,  I  think  I  im- 
pressed Hawkins  as  I  hoped  to,  even  if  I  was  a  bit 
nervous.  Fourth,  while  my  introduction  to  Madam 
Chartley  was  horribly  mortifying,  all's  well  that 
ends  well,  and  she  didn't  lay  it  up  against  me.  I 
think  she  must  have  taken  quite  a  fancy  to  me  in- 
stead or  she  wouldn't  have  given  me  my  fifth  and 
greatest  reason  for  thankfulness,  the  privilege  of 
occupying  Lloyd's  old  room.  Maybe  I  oughtn't  to 
put  that  as  the  greatest  reason,  for  of  course  it's 
greater  just  to  be  here  at  all,  and  seventh,  I'll  never 
get  done  being  thankful  that  I've  got  Jack  for  a 
brother.  That  really  is  the  best  of  all,  and  I'm  go- 
ing to  make  so  much  out  of  my  opportunities  this 
year,  that  he'll  feel  repaid  for  all  he's  done  for  me, 
and  be  glad  and  proud  that  he  could  do  it." 

Filling  another  page  with  an  account  of  her  jour- 
ney and  her  impressions  of  the  place,  Mary  closed 
her  journal  with  a  sigh  of  relief  that  the  long-neg- 
lected entry  had  been  made.  Then  she  leaned  back 
on  the  rustic  bench  and  gave  herself  up  to  the  enjoy- 
ment of  her  surroundings.  The  fountain  splashed 
softly.  A  lazy  breeze  stirred  the  vines,  and  fanned 
her  face.    Far  below,  the  shining  Potomac  took  its 


30  MARY   WARE 

slow  way  to  the  sea  between  its  lines  of  drooping 
willows.  The  calm  and  repose  of  the  stately  old 
place  seemed  to  steal  in  on  her  soul  not  only  through 
eye  and  ear  and  sense  of  touch,  but  at  every  pore. 

"  It's  the  strangest  thing,"  she  mused.  "  I  must 
be  a  sort  of  chameleon,  the  way  I  change  with  my 
surroundings.  It  doesn't  seem  possible  that  only 
last  week  I  was  scrambling  around  with  my  head 
tied  up  in  a  towel,  scrubbing  and  cleaning  and  drag- 
ging furniture  around  at  a  break-neck  speed.  I 
could  almost  believe  I've  never  done  anything  all  my 
life  but  trail  around  this  garden  at  my  elegant  lei- 
sure like  some  fine  lady-in-waiting." 

There  was  time  for  a  stroll  down  to  the  river  be- 
fore the  falling  twilight  recalled  her  to  the  house. 
As  she  went  down  the  flight  of  marble  steps  it  was 
with  the  self-conscious  feeling  that  she  was  a  girl  in 
a  play,  and  this  was  one  of  the  scenes  in  Act  i.  She 
had  seen  a  setting  like  this  on  a  stage  one  time,  when 
a  beautiful  lady  trailed  down  the  steps  of  a  Vene- 
tian palace  to  the  gondola  waiting  in  the  lagoon  be- 
low. To  be  sure  Mary's  dress  did  not  trail,  and  she 
was  not  tall  and  willowy  outwardly,  but  it  made  no 
difference  as  long  as  she  could  feel  that  she  was. 
For  a  long  time  she  walked  slowly  back  and  forth 
along  the  river  path,  pausing  now  and  then  to  look 


THE  LITTLE  COLONEL'S  CHUM  31 

up  at  the  great  castle-like  building  above  her.  She 
had  never  seen  one  before  so  suggestive  of  old- 
world  grandeur.  Already  it  was  giving  her  more 
than  she  would  find  inside  in  its  text-books.  Pe- 
culiarly susceptible  to  surroundings,  she  uncon- 
sciously held  herself  more  erect,  as  if  such  a  stately 
habitation  demanded  it  of  her.  And  when  she 
climbed  the  steps  again,  with  it  looming  up  before 
her  in  the  red  afterglow,  the  dignity  and  repose  of 
its  lines,  from  its  massive  portal  to  its  highest  tur- 
'«t,  awakened  a  response  in  her  beauty-loving  little 
soul  that  thrilled  her  like  music. 

She  went  softly  through  the  great  door  and  up 
the  stair-case,  pausing  for  a  moment  on  the  landing 
to  look  at  the  coat-of-arms  in  the  stained  glass  win- 
dow. It  was  a  copy  of  the  window  in  the  old  an- 
cestral castle  in  England,  that  belonged  to  Madam 
Chartley's  family.  Mary  already  knew  the  story  of 
its  traditional  founder,  the  first  Edryn  who  had  won 
his  knighthood  in  valiant  deeds  for  King  Arthur. 
In  the  dim  light  the  coat-of-arms  gleamed  like 
jewels  in  an  amber  setting,  and  the  heart  in  the 
crest,  the  heart  out  of  which  rose  a  mailed  hand 
grasping  a  spear,  was  like  a  great  ruby. 

"  I  keep  the  tryste,"  whispered  Mary,  reading  the 
motto   of   the    scroll   underneath.      "  No   wonder 


$2  MARY   WARE 

Madam  Chartley  grew  up  to  be  so  patrician.  Any- 
body might  with  a  window  like  that  in  the  house." 

Some  one  began  striking  loud  full  chords  on  a 
piano  in  one  of  the  rooms  below;  some  one  with  a 
strong  masterful  touch.  Mary  was  sure  it  was  a 
man.  By  leaning  over  the  banister  until  she  almost 
lost  her  balance,  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  pair  of 
black  coat-tails  swinging  awkwardly  over  a  piano 
bench.  Herr  Vogelbaum,  the  musical  director,  must 
have  arrived.  Probably  she  would  meet  him  at  din- 
ner. That  was  something  to  look  forward  to  —  an 
artist  who  had  played  before  crowned  heads  and 
had  been  lionized  all  over  Germany.  And  then  the 
chords  rolled  into  something  so  beautiful  and  in- 
spiring that  Mary  knew  that  for  the  first  time  in 
her  life  she  was  hearing  really  great  music,  played 
by  a  master.    She  sat  down  on  the  steps  to  listen. 

The  self-conscious  feeling  that  she  was  acting  a 
part  in  a  play  came  back  afresh,  and  made  her  ha- 
stily pull  down  her  skirts  and  assume  a  listening  at- 
titude. Thinking  how  effective  she  would  look  on 
a  stage  she  leaned  back  against  the  carved  banister, 
clasping  her  hands  around  her  knees,  and  gazing  up 
at  the  ruby  heart  in  the  stained  glass  window  above 
her.  But  in  a  moment  both  self  and  pose  were  for- 
gotten.   She  had  never  dreamed  that  the  world  held 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  33 

such  music  as  the  flood  of  melody  which  came  roll- 
ing up  from  below.  It  seemed  to  lift  her  out  of 
herself  and  into  another  world ;  a  world  of  nameless 
longings  and  exalted  ambitions,  of  burning  desire 
to  do  great  deeds.  Something  was  calling  her  — 
calling  and  calling  with  the  compelling  note  of  a 
far-off  yet  insistent  trumpet,  and  as  she  gazed  at 
the  mailed  hand  with  the  spear  rising  triumphantly 
out  of  the  ruby  heart,  she  began  to  understand.  A 
feeling  of  awe  crept  over  her,  that  she,  little  Mary 
Ware,  should  be  hearing  the  same  call  that  Edryn 
heard.  Somewhere,  some  day,  some  great  achieve- 
ment awaited  her.  Now  she  knew  that  that  was 
why  she  had  been  born  into  the  world.  That  was 
why,  too,  that  Providence  had  opened  a  way  for  her 
to  come  to  Warwick  Hall,  that  she  might  learn  what 
was  to  be  "  the  North-star  of  her  great  ambition," 
and  how  "  to  keep  the  compass  needle  of  her  soul " 
ever  true  to  it. 

Clasping  her  hands  together  as  reverently  and 
humbly  as  if  she  were  before  an  altar,  she  looked 
up  at  the  ruby  heart,  her  face  all  alight,  whisper- 
ing Edryn's  answer: 

"  'Tis  the  King's  call !  O  list ! 
O  heart  and  hand  of  mine  keep  tryst  — 
Keep  tryst  or  die ! " 


34  MARY   WARE 

The  music  stopped  as  suddenly  as  it  had  begun, 
and  all  atingle  with  the  exalted  mood  in  which  it 
left  her,  she  ran  up  to  her  room  and  knelt  by  the 
window,  looking  out  into  the  dusk  with  eager  shin- 
ing eyes.  As  yet  it  was  all  vague  and  shadowy,  that 
mysterious  future  which  awaited  her.  With  what 
great  duty  to  the  universe  she  was  to  keep  tryst  she 
did  not  know;  but  whatever  it  was  she  would  do 
it  at  any  cost.  To  callow  wings  no  flight  is  too  high 
to  attempt.    At  sixteen  all  things  are  possible. 

All  girls  of  Mary's  imaginative  impulsive  tem- 
perament have  had  such  moments,  under  the  spell  of 
some  unusual  inspiration,  but  their  dreams  are  apt 
to  vanish  at  contact  with  the  earth  again,  as  sud- 
denly as  a  bubble  breaks  when  some  material  object 
touches  it.  But  with  Mary  the  vision  stayed.  True, 
it  had  to  retire  into  the  background  when  dinner 
was  announced,  and  her  over-weening  curiosity 
brought  her  down  to  the  consideration  of  common 
everyday  affairs,  but  she  did  not  lose  the  sense  of 
having  been  set  apart  in  some  way  by  that  supreme 
moment  on  the  stair.  To  the  world  she  might  be 
only  an  ordinary  little  Freshman,  but  inwardly  she 
knew  she  was  a  sort  of  Joan  of  Arc,  called  and  con- 
secrated to  some  high  destiny. 

She  went  down  to  dinner  in  an  uplifted  frame  of 


THE  LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  35 

mind  that  made  her  passage  down  the  long  dining 
room  in  the  wake  of  Madam  and  the  few  re- 
turned teachers  a  veritable  march  of  triumph.  The 
feeling  that  the  curtain  had  gone  up  on  an  interest- 
ing play  in  which  she  was  chief  actor  came  back 
stronger  than  ever  when  she  took  her  seat  in  one  of 
the  high-backed  ebony  chairs,  with  the  carved  grif- 
fins atop,  and  unfolded  her  napkin  in  the  gaze  of  a 
long  line  of  ancestral  portraits. 

Madam  Chartley,  who  had  been  looking  forward 
to  the  dinner  hour  with  some  apprehension  on  the 
new  pupil's  account,  knowing  she  would  be  obliged 
to  curb  the  lively  little  tongue  if  she  talked  at  the 
table  as  she  had  done  in  the  reception  room,  was 
amazed  at  the  change  in  her.  Warwick  Hall  had 
done  its  work.  Already  the  little  chameleon  had 
taken  on  the  colour  of  her  surroundings.  Haw- 
kins, in  all  his  years  of  London  service,  had  never 
served  a  more  demure,  self-possessed  little  English 
maiden,  or  one  who  listened  with  greater  deference 
to  the  conversation  of  her  elders. 

She  spoke  only  when  she  was  spoken  to,  but  some 
of  her  odd,  unexpected  replies  made  Herr  Vogel- 
baum  look  up  with  an  interest  he  rarely  took  in 
anything  outside  of  his  music  and  his  dinner.  Miss 
Chilton  was  so  amused  at  her  accounts  of  Arizona 


36  MARY   WARE 

life,  that  she  invited  her  up  to  her  room,  and  led 
her  into  a  conversation  that  revealed  her  most  orig- 
inal traits. 

"She's  a  bright  little  thing,"  Miss  Chilton  re- 
ported to  Madam  afterward.  "  The  kind  of  a  girl 
who  is  bound  to  be  popular  in  a  school,  just  because 
she's  so  different  and  interesting." 

"  She  is  more  than  that,"  answered  Madam,  smil- 
ing over  the  recollection  of  some  of  her  quaint 
speeches.  "  She  is  lovable.  She  has  '  the  divine 
^ift  of  making  friends.'  " 


CHAPTER  III 

ROOM  -  MATES 

Up  in  her  orderly  room,  on  opening  day,  Mary 
listened  to  the  bustle  of  arrivals,  and  the  stir  of  un- 
packing going  on  all  over  the  house.  The  cordial 
greetings  called  back  and  forth  from  the  various 
rooms  and  the  laughter  in  the  halls  made  her  long 
to  have  a  part  in  the  general  sociability.  She  wished 
that  it  were  necessary  for  her  to  borrow  a  hammer 
or  to  ask  information  about  the  trunk-room  and  the 
porter,  as  the  other  new  girls  were  doing.  That 
would  give  her  an  excuse  for  going  into  some  of 
the  rooms  and  making  acquaintance  with  their  oc- 
cupants. But  everything  was  in  absolute  order,  and 
she  was  already  familiar  with  the  place  and  its  rules. 
There  was  nothing  for  her  to  do  but  take  out  her 
bead-work  and  occupy  herself  with  that  as  best  she 
could  until  the  arrival  of  her  room-mate. 

She  set  her  door  invitingly  open,  ready  to  meet 
more  than  half  way  any  advances  her  neighbours 
might  choose  to  make.    While  she  sorted  her  beads 

37 


38  MARY  WARE 

she  amused  herself  by  fitting  together  the  scraps. of 
conversation  which  floated  her  way,  and  making 
guesses  as  to  the  personality  of  the  speakers.  Twice 
her  open  door  brought  the  reward  of  a  transient 
visitor.  Once  a  jolly  Sophomore  glanced  in  to 
say  "  I  just  wanted  to  see  who  has  the  American 
Beauty  room.  That's  what  we  called  it  last  term 
when  Kitty  Walton  and  Lloyd  Sherman  had  it." 

Soon  after,  a  girl  across  the  hall  whom  Mary- 
had  already  identified  as  one  Dora  Irene  Derwent, 
called  Dorene  for  short,  darted  in  unceremoniously 
with  an  agonized  plea  for  a  bit  of  court-plaster. 

"  I  cut  my  finger  on  a  piece  of  glass  in  a  picture 
frame  that  got  broken  in  my  trunk,"  she  explained, 
unwinding  her  handkerchief  to  see  if  the  bleeding 
had  stopped.  "  I  can't  find  my  emergency  case,  and 
Cornie  Dean  never  was  known  to  keep  anything  of 
the  sort.  All  the  other  rooms  are  so  upset  I  knew  it 
was  of  no  use  to  apply  to  them." 

Happy  that  such  an  opportunity  had  come  at  last 
and  that  she  could  supply  the  demand,  Mary  exam- 
ined the  injured  finger  and  began  to  trim  a  strip  of 
plaster  the  required  size.  At  the  moment  of  cutting 
herself  Dorene  had  dropped  the  broken  glass,  but 
for  some  unaccountable  reason  had  thrust  the  frame 
under  her  arm,  and  was  holding  it  hugged  tight  to 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  39 

her  side  by  her  elbow.  Now  as  she  put  out  her  hand 
for  Mary's  inspection,  she  sat  down  on  the  edge  of 
the  bed,  and  let  the  frame  slip  from  her  grasp  to 
the  counterpane.  The  photograph  side  lay  upper- 
most, and  Mary,  glancing  at  it  casually,  gave  an  ex- 
clamation of  surprise. 

"Why,  it's  Betty!  Betty  Lewis!  Do  you  know 
her?" 

"  Well,  rather !  "  was  the  emphatic  answer.  "  She 
was  my  crush  all  my  Freshman  year.  I  suppose 
you  know  what  that  means  if  you've  ever  had  a  case 
yourself.  I  simply  adored  her,  and  could  hardly 
bear  to  come  back  the  next  year  because  she  was 
graduated  and  gone.  I  haven't  seen  her  since,  but 
you  can  imagine  my  delight  when  I  found  her  name 
in  this  year's  catalogue,  as  one  of  the  teachers.  We 
never  imagined  she'd  teach,  for  she  has  such  a  won- 
derful gift  for  writing;  but  it  will  be  simply  delight- 
ful to  have  her  back  again.  She's  such  a  dear.  But 
where  did  you  happen  to  know  her?  "  she  added  as 
an  afterthought.  "  Are  you  from  Lloydsboro  Val- 
ley, too?" 

"  No,  but  I  visited  there  once  at  Lloyd  Sherman's 
home  where  Betty  lives.  Lloyd's  mother  is  Betty's 
god-mother,  you  know,  and  Betty's  mother  was  my 
sister  Joyce's  god-mother.    We're  all  mixed  up  that 


40  MARY   WARE 

way  on  account  of  our  mothers  being  old  school 
friends,  as  if  we  were  related.  Of  course,  I  shall 
call  her  Miss  Lewis  before  the  other  girls.  Mamma 
says  it  wouldn't  be  showing  proper  respect  not  to. 
But  it's  such  a  comfort  to  be  able  to  call  her  Betty 
behind  the  scenes.  She  came  yesterday.  Last  night 
she  was  up  in  my  room  for  more  than  an  hour  with 
me,  talking  about  the  places  and  people  we  both 
know  in  the  valley.  It  made  me  so  happy  I  could 
hardly  go  to  sleep.  Elise  Walton  came  with  her, 
Kitty's  sister,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  is  she  as  bright  and  funny  as  Kitty?  "  de- 
manded Dorene.  "If  she  is  we  certainly  shall  lay 
siege  to  you  two  for  our  sorority.  We  ought 
to  have  first  claim,  for  all  the  other  Lloydsboro 
Valley  girls  belong  to  us.  Come  over  and  see 
Cornie." 

Conscious  that  as  a  friend  of  the  Valley  girls 
she  had  gone  up  many  degrees  in  Dorene's  estima- 
tion, Mary  put  away  her  scissors  and  plaster-case, 
and  followed  her  newfound  acquaintance  across  the 
hall.  Her  cordial  reception  gave  her  what  she  had 
been  longing  for  all  morning,  the  sense  of  being  in 
intimate  touch  with  things  in  the  inner  circle  of 
school  life.  Because  she  knew  Lloyd  and  Betty  so 
well,  they  took  her  in  as  one  of  themselves,  gave 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  41 

her  a  seat  on  a  suit-case,  the  chairs  all  being  full, 
and  climbed  over  her  and  around  her  as  they  went 
on  with  their  unpacking.  Mary  was  in  her  element, 
and  blossomed  out  into  such  an  interesting  visitor, 
that  Dorene  was  glad  that  she  had  discovered  her. 
This  was  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  year  that  she 
and  Cornie  had  roomed  together,  and  to  Mary  their 
companionship  seemed  ideal. 

"  I  hope  my  room-mate  will  prove  as  congenial  as 
you  two,"  she  said,  after  listening  half  an  hour  to 
their  laughing  repartee  and  their  ridiculous  discus- 
sions as  to  the  arrangement  of  their  pictures  and 
bric-a-brac.  "  I've  been  looking  forward  all  morn- 
ing to  her  coming.  Every  time  I  think  of  her  I 
have  the  same  excited,  creepy  feeling  that  I  used  to 
have  when  I  opened  a  prize  pop-corn  box.  My  little 
brother  and  I  used  to  save  all  our  pennies  for  them 
when  we  were  little  tots  back  in  Kansas.  We  didn't 
eat  the  pop-corn,  that  is  /  didn't.  It  was  the  flutter 
and  thrill  I  wanted,  that  comes  when  you've  almost 
reached  the  bottom  of  the  box,  and  know  the  next 
grab  will  bring  the  prize  into  your  fingers.  I  was 
always  hoping  I  might  find  one  of  those  little  rings 
with  a  red  setting  that  I  could  pretend  was  a  real 
garnet.  No  matter  if  it  did  always  turn  out  to  be 
nothing  but  a  toy  soldier  or  a  tin  whistle,  there  was 


42  MARY  WARS. 

always  some  kind  of  a  surprise,  and  that  delicious 
uncertain  creepy  feeling  first." 

"  Well,  you  don't  always  draw  a  prize  in  your 
pop-corn  when  you're  drawing  room-mates,  I  can 
tell  you  that!  "  announced  Cornie  emphatically. 

"  I  was  at  a  school  the  year  before  I  came  here, 
where  I  had  to  room  with  a  girl  who  almost  drove 
me  to  distraction.  She  was  a  mild,  modest  little 
thing,  who,  as  Cowper  says: 

"  '  Would  not  with  a  peremptory  tone 
Assert  the  nose  upon  her  face  her  own.' 

Yet  she'd  do  things  that  would  provoke  me  beyond 
endurance.  Sometimes  I  could  hardly  keep  from 
choking  her." 

"  What  kind  of  things  for  instance  ?  "  asked 
Mary. 

"  Well,  for  one  thing,  and  it  does  seem  a  little 
one  when  you  tell  it,  we  had  about  a  thousand 
photographs,  more  or  less,  perched  around  on  the 
mantel  and  walls.  Essie  was  so  painfully  modest 
that  she  couldn't  bear  to  undress  with  them  looking 
at  her,  so  she'd  turn  their  faces  to  the  wall,  and 
then  next  morning  she'd  be  so  slow  about  getting 
down  to  breakfast  that  there  wouldn't  be  time  to 
turn  them  back.    There  my  poor  family  and  friends 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  43 

would  have  to  stay  with  their  faces  to  the  wall  all 
day  as  if  they  were  in  disgrace,  unless  I  went  around 
and  turned  them  all  back  myself. 

"  Then  she  was  such  a  queer  little  mouse ;  didn't 
really  come  out  of  her  hole  and  get  sociable  until 
after  dark.  As  soon  as  the  lights  were  out  and  we 
were  in  bed,  she'd  want  to  talk.  No  matter  how 
sleepy  I  was,  that  was  the  time  to  tell  all  her 
troubles.  She  was  so  humble  and  respectful  in  ask- 
ing my  advice  that  I  couldn't  throw  a  pillow  at 
her  and  shut  her  up,  so  there  she'd  lie  and  talk  in  a 
stage  whisper  till  after  midnight.  Then  it  was  like 
pulling  teeth  to  get  her  up  in  the  morning.  She 
took  to  setting  an  alarm  clock  for  awhile,  to  rouse 
her  early  and  give  her  half  an  hour  to  wake  up  in. 
It  never  made  the  slightest  difference  to  her,  but 
always  wakened  me.  Finally  I  unscrewed  the  alarm 
key  and  hid  it.  She  was  so  sensitive  that  I  couldn't 
scold  and  fuss  about  things.  Now  with  Dorene 
here,  I  simply  gag  her  when  she  talks  too  much, 
shut  her  in  the  closet  when  she  gets  in  my  way, 
and  scalp  her  when  she  doesn't  do  as  she  is  bid." 

Without  any  reason  for  forming  such  a  mental 
picture  of  her  prospective  room-mate,  Ma*-y  had 
imagined  her  to  be  a  blue-eyed,  golden-haired  little 
creature,  with  a  sort  of  wax-doll  prettiness :  a  girl 


44  MARY   WARE 

j 
made  to  be  petted  and  considered  and  shielded  like  a 

delicate  flower.  The  type  appealed  to  her.  Inde- 
pendent and  capable  herself,  she  was  prepared  to 
be  almost  motherly  in  her  care  for  Ethelinda's  com- 
fort. With  this  preconceived  notion  it  was  some- 
what of  a  shock  when  she  went  back  to  her  room 
and  found  the  real  Ethelinda  being  ushered  into  it. 

She  was  not  blue-eyed  and  appealing.  She  was 
large,  she  was  self-assured,  and  she  took  possession 
of  the  room  in  an  expansive  all-pervading  sort  of 
way  that  made  Mary  feel  very  small  and  insignifi- 
cant. The  room  itself  that  heretofore  had  been  so 
spacious  suddenly  seemed  to  shrink,  and  when  a 
huge  trunk  was  brought  in,  it  was  fairly  crowded. 

Mary  drew  her  chair  into  the  narrow  space  be- 
tween the  bed  and  the  window,  but  even  there  she 
felt  in  the  way.  "  I  don't  see  why  I  should,"  she 
thought  with  vague  resentment.  "  It's  as  much  my 
room  as  hers." 

It  was  one  of  the  requirements  of  the  school  that 
all  trunks  must  be  emptied  and  sent  to  the  store- 
room on  arrival,  and  presently,  as  Ethelinda  seemed 
ignorant  of  the  rule,  Mary  told  her  and  offered  to 
help  her  unpack.  The  answer  was  excessively  po- 
lite, so  polite  that  it  left  Mary  at  greater  arm's 
length  than  before. 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  45 

Fanchon  was  to  do  the  unpacking.  She  had  come 
on  purpose  for  that.  In  a  few  moments  Fanchon 
came  in,  a  middle-aged  woman  who  had  accom- 
panied her  from  home,  and  who  was  to  return  as 
soon  as  her  charge  was  properly  settled.  The  two 
conversed  in  French,  as  Ethelinda,  with  her  hands 
clasped  behind  her  head,  tipped  back  in  a  rocking 
chair  and  lazily  watched  proceedings.  She  was  ut- 
terly regardless  of  Mary's  presence. 

"  I  might  as  well  be  the  door-knob  for  all  the 
notice  she  takes  of  me,"  thought  Mary  resentfully. 
"  Well,  she  may  prove  to  be  as  much  as  a  tin  whistle, 
t>ut  she  certainly  isn't  the  prize  I  had  hoped  to  find." 

She  cast  another  furtive  glance  at  her  over  her 
t>ead-stringing,  slowly  making  up  her  estimate  of 
her. 

"  She's  what  Joyce  would  call  a  drab  blonde  — 
washed  out  complexion  and  sallow  hair.  She  looks 
drab  all  the  way  through  to  me,  but  she  may  be  the 
kind  that  improves  on  acquaintance.  She  certainly 
has  a  good  figure,  and  looks  as  stylish  as  one  of 
those  fashion  ladies  in  Vogue." 

From  time  to  time  Mary  proffered  bits  of  in- 
formation as  occasion  offered,  as  to  which  of  the 
drawers  were  empty  and  how  to  pull  the  wardrobe 
door  a  certain  way  when  it  stuck,  but  her  friendly 


46  MARY   WARE 

advances  were  so  coldly  received,  that  presently  she 
slipped  out  of  the  room  and  went  over  to  the  East 
wing  to  see  what  Elise  Walton  was  doing. 

Elise  had  already  made  friends  with  her  room- 
mate, a  little  dumpling  of  a  girl  by  the  name  of 
Agnes  Olive  Miggs,  and  was  calling  her  A.O.  as 
every  one  else  did.  In  five  minutes  Mary  was  call- 
ing her  A.O.  too,  and  wishing  a  little  enviously  that 
either  one  of  these  bright  friendly  girls  could  have 
fallen  to  her  lot  instead  of  the  polite  iceberg  she  had 
run  away  from. 

"  But  I  won't  complain  of  her  to  them,"  she 
thought  loyally.  "  Maybe  she'll  improve  on  ac- 
quaintance and  be  so  nice  that  I'd  be  sorry  some  day 
that  I  said  anything  against  her." 

Several  other  girls  came  in  while  she  sat  there, 
and  a  box  of  candy  was  passed  around.  Finding 
herself  in  the  company  of  congenial  young  spirits 
was  a  new  experience  for  Mary. 

"  Now  I  know  what  it  means  to  be  *  in  the 
swim/  "  she  thought  exultantly.  "  I  feel  like  a  duck 
who  has  found  a  whole  lake  to  swim  in,  when  it 
has  never  had  anything  bigger  than  a  puddle  be- 
fore." 

The  sensation  was  so  exhilarating  that  it  prompted 
her  to  exert  herself  to  keep  on  saying  funny  things 


THE  LITTLE  COLONELS  CfWM  tf 

and  send  her  audience  off  into  gales  of  laughter, 
And  all  the  time  the  consciousness  deepened  that 
they  really  liked  her,  that  she  was  really  entertain- 
ing them. 

After  lunch  the  day  went  by  in  a  rush.  Each 
teacher  met  her  classes,  programmes  were  arranged 
and  lessons  assigned.  By  night  Mary  had  made 
the  acquaintance  of  every  girl  in  the  Freshman 
class  and  many  of  the  others.  She  started  to  her 
room  all  aglow  with  the  new  experiences,  thinking 
that  if  she  could  only  find  Ethelinda  responsive  it 
would  put  the  finishing  touch  to  a  perfect  day. 
Betty  was  in  the  upper  hall  surrounded  by  an  admir- 
ing circle,  for  all  the  old  girls  who  remembered  her 
as  the  star  of  her  class,  and  all  the  new  ones  who 
had  been  attracted  to  her  from  the  moment  they 
saw  her.  were  crowding  around  her  as  if  she  were 
holding  some  kind  of  court.  It  was  a  moment  of 
triumph  for  Mary  when 'Betty  laughingly  excused 
herself  from  them  all  and  drew  her  aside. 

"  Come  into  my  room  a  few  minutes,"  she  said. 
"  I've  something  to  show  you."  While  she  was 
looking  through  her  desk  to  find  it  she  asked, 
"  Well,  how  goes  it,  little  girl  ?  Is  school  all  you 
dreamed  it  would  be  ?  " 

"  Betty,  she  won't  thaw  out  a  bit." 


48  MARY   WARE 

"Who,  dear?" 

"  That  Miss  Ethelinda  Hurst.  When  I  went  up 
stairs  to  dress  for  dinner  I  tried  my  best  to  be 
sociable,  and  brought  up  every  subject  that  I 
thought  would  interest  her.  She  barely  answered 
till  she  found  that  I  had  come  out  to  Warwick  Hall 
from  the  city  alone.  That  horrified  her,  to  think 
I'd  taken  a  step  without  a  chaperon,  and  she  said 
it  in  such  a  way  that  I  couldn't  help  saying  that  I 
thought  one  must  feel  like  a  poodle  tied  to  a  string 
—  always  fastened  to  a  chaperon.  As  for  me  give 
me  liberty  or  give  me  death.  And  she  answered, 
'  Oh,  aren't  you  queer! '  Then  after  awhile  I  tried 
again,  but  she  wouldn't  draw  out  worth  a  cent. 
Said  she  had  never  roomed  with  any  one  before, 
but  supposed  it  was  one  of  the  disagreeable  things 
one  had  to  put  up  with  when  one  went  away  to 
school.     Imagine !     Pleasant  for  me,  wasn't  it !  " 

"  Try  letting  her  alone  for  awhile,"  advised  Betty. 
"  Beat  her  at  her  own  game.  Play  dumb  for  —  say 
a  week." 

"  But  that  is  so  much  good  time  wasted,  when 
we  might  be  chums  from  the  start.  When  you're 
going  to  bed  is  the  cream  of  the  day.  You  see  you 
always  had  Lloyd,  so  you  don't  know  what  it  is  like 
to  room  with  an  oyster." 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  49 

"  Here  it  is,"  announced  Betty,  unwrapping  the 
package  she  had  just  found,  and  passing  it  to  Mary. 
"  Lloyd's  latest  photograph,  the  best  she  has  ever  had 
taken,  in  my  opinion.  It's  so  lifelike  you  almost 
wait  to  hear  her  speak.  And  I  like  it  because  it's 
so  simple  and  girlish.  I  suppose  the  next  one  will 
be  taken  in  evening  gown  after  she  makes  her  de- 
but." 

"  Oh,  is  it  for  me?  "  was  the  happy  cry. 

"  Yes,  frame,  picture,  nail  to  hang  it  on  and  all. 
Lloyd  sent  it  with  her  love.  The  day  the  photo- 
graphs came  home,  she  found  that  funny  slip  of 
paper  with  all  the  questions  on  it  Jack  was  to  ask. 
And  you  wanted  so  especially  to  know  just  how 
the  Princess  looked  and  how  she  was  wearing  her 
hair  and  all  that,  that  she  said,  '  I  believe  I'll  send 
one  of  these  to  Mary.  She'll  admire  it  whether 
any  one  else  does  or  not.'  " 

"  Tell  me  about  her,"  begged  Mary,  propping  the 
frame  up  in  front  of  her  that  she  might  watch  the 
beloved  face  while  she  listened. 

Nothing  loath,  Betty  sat  down  and  began  to  talk 
of  the  gay  summer  just  gone,  of  the  picnics  and  the 
barn  parties,  the  moonlight  drives,  the  rainy  days  at 
the  Log  Cabin,  the  many  knights  who  came  a-riding 
by  to  pay  court  to  the  fair  daughter  of  the  house. 


50  MARY  WARE 

Then  she  told  of  her  own  good  times  and  the  dis- 
appointment when  her  manuscript  had  been  re- 
turned, and  the  reason  for  her  coming  to  Warwick 
Hall  to  teach. 

"  I  have  come  to  serve  my  apprenticeship,"  she 
explained.  "  The  old  Colonel  advised  me  to.  He 
said  I  must  live  awhile  —  have  some  experiences  that 
go  deeper  than  the  carefree  existence  I  have  been 
living,  before  I  can  write  anything  worth  while.  I 
am  sure  he  is  right." 

When  Mary  had  heard  all  that  Betty  could  re- 
member to  tell,  she  took  her  departure,  carrying  the 
picture  and  the  nail  on  which  to  hang  it.  She 
wanted  to  show  it  to  Ethelinda,  she  was  so  proud 
of  it,  but  heroically  refrained.  Early  as  it  was 
Ethelinda  was  undressing. 

Mary  had  intended  to  do  many  things  before  bed- 
time, write  in  her  journal,  mend  the  rip  in  her  skirt, 
start  a  letter  to  Jack,  and  maybe  make  some  break 
in  the  wall  of  reserve  which  Ethelinda  still  kept 
persistently  between  them.  But  when  she  saAV  the 
preparations  for  retiring  she  hesitated,  perplexed. 

"  She's  tired  from  her  long  journey,"  she 
thought,  "  so  maybe  I  ought  not  to  sit  up  and  keep 
the  light  burning.  Maybe  she'll  appreciate  it  if  I  go 
to  bed,  too.  I  can  lie  aiad  think  even  if  I'm  not 
sleepy." 


THE  LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  51 

The  rip  in  the  skirt  had  to  be  mended,  however, 
or  she  would  not  be  presentable  in  the  morning.  It 
was  a  small  one,  and  she  did  not  sit  down  to  the 
task,  but  in  order  that  she  might  work  faster  stood 
up  and  took  short  hurried  stitches.  Next,  taking 
off  her  shoe  to  use  the  heel  as  a  hammer,  she  drove 
the  nail  in  the  wall  over  the  side  of  her  bed,  and 
hung  the  picture  where  she  could  see  it  the  last  thing 
at  night  and  the  first  in  the  morning.  Then,  retir- 
ing behind  her  screen,  she  made  her  preparations 
for  the  night.  They  were  completed  long  before 
Ethelinda's,  and  climbing  into  bed  she  lay  looking 
at  the  new  picture,  glad  for  this  opportunity  to  gaze 
at  it  to  her  heart's  content. 

It  made  her  think  of  so  many  things  that  she 
loved  to  recall  —  little  incidents  of  her  visit  to  The 
Locusts;  and  the  smiling  lips  seemed  to  be  saying, 
"  Don't  you  remember "  in  such  a  friendly  com- 
panionable way  that  she  whispered  to  herself,  "  Oh, 
you  dear!  If  you  were  only  here  this  year,  what 
an  angel  of  a  chum  you  would  make !  " 

Then  she  looked  across  at  Ethel inda, .  who  had 
arranged  the  windows  to  her  satisfaction  and  was 
now  stretching  the  electric  light  cord  from  her 
dressing  table  to  her  bed,  so  that  the  bulb  would 
hang  directly  over  it.     In  another  moment  she  had 


52  MARY   WARE 

propped  herself  comfortably  against  the  pillows, 
and  settled  down  with  a  book. 

Mary  sat  up  astonished.  She  had  sacrificed  her 
own  plans  and  come  to  bed  for  Ethelinda's  sake, 
and  now  here  was  the  electric  light  blazing  full  in 
her  eyes,  utterly  regardless  of  her  comfort.  She 
was  about  to  sputter  an  indignant  protest  when  she 
looked  up  at  the  picture.  It  seemed  to  smile  back 
at  her  as  if  it  were  a  real  person  with  whom  she 
might  exchange  amused  glances.  "  Did  you  ever 
see  such  colossal  unconcern?"  she  whispered,  as  if 
the  pictured  Lloyd  could  hear. 

For  a  moment  she  thought  she  would  get  up  and 
do  the  things  she  had  intended  doing  when  she 
came  up  stairs,  but  it  required  too  much  of  an  ef- 
fort to  dress  again,  and  she  was  more  tired  than  she 
had  realized  after  her  exciting  day.  So  she  lay 
still.  She  began  to  get  drowsy  presently,  but  she 
could  not  go  to  sleep  with  that  irritating  light  in 
her  eyes.  She  threw  a  counterpane  over  the  foot- 
board, but  it  was  too  low  to  shield  her.  Finally 
in  desperation  she  slipped  out  of  bed  and  got  her 
umbrella.  Then  opening  it  over  her  she  thrust  its 
handle  under  the  pillow  to  hold  it  in  place,  and  lay 
back  under  its  sheltering  canopy  with  a  suppressed 
giggle. 


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\ 

1 

LAY    BACK    UNDER    ITS     SHELTERING    CANOPY    WITH    A    SUPPRESSED 
GIGGLE." 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL'S    CHUM  53 

Again  she  looked  up  at  Lloyd's  picture,  thinking, 
"I'd  have  been  awfully  mad  if  you  hadn't  been 
here  to  smile  with  me  over  it." 

The  bulb  began  to  sway,  throwing  shadows  across 
the  wall.  Ethelinda  had  struck  the  cord  in  reach- 
ing up  to  pull  her  pillows  higher.  The  flickering 
shadows  made  Mary  think  of  something — a  verse 
that  Lloyd  had  written  in  her  autograph  album  once, 
because  it  was  the  motto  of  the  Seminary  Shadow 
Club. 


'This  learned  I  from  the  shadow  on  a  tree 
That  to  and  fro  did  sway   upon  the  wall, 
Our  shadowy  selves — our  influence,  may  fall 
Where  we  can  never  be." 


She  repeated  it  drowsily,  peering  out  from  under 
her  umbrella  at  the  swaying  shadows,  till  some- 
thing the  lines  suggested  made  her  sit  up,  wide 
awake. 

"Why,  I  can  take  you  for  my  chum,  of  course," 
she  thought.  "Your  shadow-self.  Then  it  won't 
make  any  difference  whether  Miss  Haughtiness 
Hurst  talks  to  me  or  not.  You'll  understand  and 
sympathize  with  me." 

All  her  life  when  Mary's  world  did  not  measure 
up  to  her  expectations,  she  had  been  in  the  habit 
of  making  a  world  of  her  own ;  a  beautiful  make- 


54  MARY   WARE 

believe  place  that  held  all  her  heart's  desires.  It 
had  given  her  gilded  coaches  and  Cinderella  ball- 
attire  in  her  nursery  days,  and  enchanted  orchards 
whose  trees  bore  all  manner  of  confections.  It  had 
bestowed  beauty  and  fortune  and  accomplishments 
on  her,  and  sent  dashing  cavaliers  to  seek  her  hand 
when  she  came  to  the  romance-reading  age. 
Friends  and  social  pleasures  were  hers  at  will  when 
the  lonely  desert  life  grew  irksome.  Whatever  was 
dull  the  Midas  touch  of  her  imagination  made 
golden,  so  now  it  was  easy  to  close  her  eyes  and 
conjure  up  a  make-believe  chum  that  for  the  time 
was  as  good  as  a  real  one. 

Absorbed  in  her  book,  Ethelinda  read  on  until 
the  signal  sounded  for  lights  out.  Never  before 
accustomed  to  such  restrictions,  she  looked  up  im- 
patiently. She  had  forgotten  where  she  was  for  the 
moment  in  the  interest  of  her  book.  When  her 
glance  fell  on  the  umbrella,  spread  over  Mary's 
bed  like  a  tent,  she  raised  herself  on  her  elbow  with 
a  look  of  astonishment.  It  took  her  some  time 
to  understand  why  it  had  been  put  there. 

Never  having  roomed  with  any  one  before,  and 
never  having  had  to  consider  any  one's  convenience 
besides  her  own,  it  had  not  occurred  to  her  that  she 
might  be  making  Mary  uncomfortable.    The  mute 


THE  LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  55 

umbrella  called  attention  to  the  fact  more  eloquently 
than  any  protest  could  have  done.  Ethelinda  had 
endured  having  a  room-mate  as  she  endured  all  the 
other  disagreeable  requirements  of  the  school. 
Now  for  the  first  time  it  dawned  upon  her  that 
there  might  be  two  sides  to  this  story,  also  that  this 
strange  girl  who  seemed  so  eager  to  intrude  herself 
on  her  notice  might  be  worth  knowing  after  all. 
If  Mary  could  have  seen  her  bewildered  stare  and 
then  the  amused  expression  which  twitched  her 
mouth  for  an  instant,  she  would  have  had  hopes 
that  the  thawing  out  process  had  begun. 


CHAPTER  IV 

"  AYE,    THERE'S    THE    RUB  !  " 

True  to  the  course  she  had  laid  out  for  herself, 
Mary  was  as  dumb  next  morning  as  if  she  had 
really  lost  the  power  of  speech.  Judging  from  her 
manner  one  would  have  thought  that  she  was  alone 
in  the  room,  and  that  she  was  having  a  beautiful 
time  all  by  herself.  She  was  waiting  for  Ethelinda 
to  make  the  advances  this  time,  and  as  she  did  not 
see  fit  even  to  say  good-morning,  the  dressing  pro- 
ceeded in  a  silence  so  profound  that  it  could  almost 
be  felt. 

There  was  a  broad  smile  on  Mary's  face  most  of 
the  time.  She  was  ready  to  laugh  outright  over 
the  absurd  situation,  and  from  time  to  time  she  cast 
an  amused  glance  at  Lloyd's  picture,  as  if  her 
amusement  were  understood  and  shared.  It  was 
wonderful  how  that  life-like  picture  seemed  to  bring 
Lloyd  before  her  and  give  her  a  delightful  sense  of 
companionship,  and  she  fell  into  the  way  of 
"  thinking  to  it,"  as  she  expressed  it.     The  things 

56 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  57 

she  would  have  said  aloud  had  Lloyd  been  with  her, 
she  said  mentally,  finding  a  satisfaction  in  this  silent 
communion  that  a  less  imaginative  person  could 
not  have  experienced. 

"  I  wish  you  could  go  down  to  breakfast  with 
me,  Princess,"  she  thought,  turning  for  a  last  glance 
when  she  was  dressed,  and  pausing  with  her  hand 
on  the  door-knob.  "  I  dread  to  go  down  alone  be- 
fore all  those  strangers." 

Dinner,  the  night  before,  had  been  a  very  stately 
affair,  with  Madam  at  the  head  of  the  table  in  the 
long  banquet  hall,  and  Hawkins  in  solemn  charge 
of  his  corps  of  waiters.  But  breakfasts  were  to  be 
delightfully  informal,  Mary  found  a  few  minutes 
later,  when  she  paused  at  the  dining  room  door  and 
saw  many  small  round  tables,  each  cozily  set  for 
six :  five  pupils  and  a  teacher.  Betty,  presiding  at 
one,  looked  up  and  beckoned  to  her. 

"  You're  a  trifle  early,  but  come  on  in.  You're 
to  have  a  seat  here  by  me,  with  Elise  and  A.O.  just 
around  the  corner.  Now  tell  me  what  has  happened 
to  give  you  that  '  glorious  morning  face,'  as  Ste- 
venson puts  it.  You  look  as  if  you  had  found  some 
rare  good  fortune." 

"  I  have,  but  I  didn't  know  I  showed  it."  Mary's 
hands  went  up  to  her  face  as  if  she  expected  to  feel 


$8  MARY    WAKE 

the  expression  that  Betty  saw.  "  I  am  so  happy  to 
think  that  I'm  to  be  at  your  table.  And  I'm  glad 
that  I  can  stop  playing  dumb  for  awhile.  Oh,  but 
it  has  been  funny  up  in  our  room  this  morning.  I 
took  your  advice,  and  I  want  to  tell  you  about  it 
before  the  other  girls  come  down." 

Betty  laughed  heartily  as  Mary  pictured  herself  in 
bed  under  the  umbrella,  and  smiled  understand- 
ingly  when  she  told  about  finding  a  make-believe 
chum  in  Lloyd's  picture. 

"  I  know,  dear,"  she  answered.  "  I  used  to  do 
that  way  with  godmother's  picture  when  I  was  a 
lonely  little  thing  at  the  Cuckoo's  nest.  I'd  whisper 
my  troubles  and  show  her  my  treasures,  and  feel 
that  she  kept  watch  over  me  while  I  slept.  It  com- 
forted me  many  a  time,  when  there  was  no  one  else 
to  go  to,  and  is  one  of  my  dearest  recollections  now 
of  those  days  when  I  felt  so  little  and  lonesome  and 
uncared  for." 

"  How  Jack  would  laugh  at  me,"  exclaimed 
Mary,  present^,  "if  he  knew  that  one  of  my  air- 
castles  had  collapsed.  He  is  always  teasing  me 
about  building  sky-scrapers  without  any  founda- 
tion. On  my  way  out  here  Mrs.  Stockton  told  me  a 
lot  of  stories  about  her  school  days.  She  roomed 
with  the  Judge's  sister,  and  she  heard  so  much  about 


THE   LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  59 

him  and  he  heard  so  much  about  her  through  this 
sister,  that  they  got  to  sending  messages  to  each 
other  in  her  letters.  Then  they  exchanged  photo- 
graphs, and  finally  they  met  when  he  came  on  the 
Commencement,  and  the  romance  of  their  lives  grew 
out  of  it.  I  kept  thinking  how  romantic  it  would 
be  to  have  your  brother  marry  your  dearest  chum, 
someone  you  already  loved  like  a  sister  —  and  that 
if  my  room-mate  turned  out  to  be  lovely  and  sweet 
and  charming,  all  that  I  hoped  she'd  be,  how  in- 
teresting I  could  make  it  for  Jack.  There's  no  so- 
ciety at  all  in  Lone-Rock,  and  he  never  can  meet  any 
nice  girls  as  long  as  he  stays  there." 

"  And  you  don't  think  he  would  be  interested  in 
Ethelinda  ? "  asked  Betty  mischievously.  "  An 
heiress  and  a  girl  with  such  a  distinguished  air? 
She  certainly  has  that  even  if  she  doesn't  measure 
up  to  your  standard  of  beauty.  He  might  be 
charmed  with  her.  You  never  can  tell  what  a  man 
is  going  to  like." 

"Not  that  —  that  —  clam!"  Mary  answered 
warmly,  with  an  expression  of  disgust.  "  I  know 
Jack!  You've  no  idea  how  she  can  shut  herself  up 
in  her  shell.  She  never  would  fit  in  our  family  and 
I  know  he'd  never  —  " 

The  signal  announcing  breakfast  made  her  stop 


6o  MARY   WARE 

in  the  middle  of  her  sentence,  for  at  that  same 
instant  the  girls  began  to  file  in. 

"  Well,  it's  goodbye,  '  Betty.'  I  must  begin  talk- 
ing to  '  Miss  Lewis  '  now."  Giving  Betty's  hand  a 
quick  squeeze  under  the  table,  she  drew  herself  up 
sedately. 

The  Old  Girls'  Welcome  to  the  New  was  the 
chief  topic  of  conversation  that  morning.  It  was 
to  take  place  that  night,  and  as  the  invitations 
would  not  be  delivered  until  the  opening  of  the  first 
mail,  every  Freshman  was  in  a  flutter  of  expec- 
tancy, wondering  who  her  escort  was  to  be. 

"  I  hope  mine  will  be  either  Cornie  Dean  or 
Dorene  Derwent,"  confided  Mary  to  Betty  in  an 
undertone,  "  because  I  know  them  so  well.  But  if 
I  should  have  to  choose  a  stranger  I'd  rather  have 
that  quiet  girl  in  gray,  over  at  Miss  Chilton's  table. 
She  looks  like  a  girl  in  an  English  story-book.  I 
mean  the  one  that  Ethelinda  is  talking  to  now.  And 
I  wish  you'd  notice  how  she  is  talking,"  Mary  con- 
tinued in  amazement.  "  Did  you  ever  see  more  ani- 
mation ?    She's  making  up  for  lost  time." 

"  Oh,  that's  Evelyn  Berkeley,"  answered  Betty. 
w  She  is  English ;  a  distant  relative  of  Madam's  with 
such  an  interesting  history.  The  year  I  finished 
school  she  came  in  the  middle  of  the  spring  term, 


THE  LITTLE   COLONELS   CHUM  6l 

such  a  sad-looking  creature  all  in  black.  Her 
mother  had  just  died,  and  her  father,  who  only  a 
short  time  before  had  succeeded  to  the  title  and 
estates,  sent  her  over  here  to  be  with  Madam  for 
awhile.  He  didn't  know  what  to  do  with  her,  as  she 
seemed  to  be  going  into  a  decline.  She  isn't  like 
the  same  girl  now." 

"  Oh,  is  she  a  real  '  My-lady-the-carriage- 
waits  '  ?  "  asked  Mary,  her  eyes  wide  with  interest. 

"  Yes,  she  belongs  to  a  very  ancient  and  noble 
family,"  said  Betty,  amused  at  her  enthusiasm!. 
"  But  I  thought  you  were  such  a  little  American- 
revolution  patriot  that  you  would  not  be  impressed 
by  anything  like  that." 

"  I'm  not  impressed,  exactly,"  Mary  answered 
stoutly,  "  but  this  is  the  first  girl  I  ever  saw  who 
is  own  daughter  to  a  lord,  and  it  does  add  a  flavour 
to  one's  interest  in  her.  Oh,  I  see,  now.  That  is 
why  Ethelinda  is  so  friendly,"  she  added,  with  sud- 
den intuition  of  the  truth.  "  She  thinks  that  Miss 
Berkeley  is  somebody  worth  cultivating,  and  that 
I'm  not." 

"  Maybe  it's  a  case  of  '  birds  of  a  feather/  "  said 
Elise,  who  had  heard  part  of  the  conversation. 
"  Ethelinda  aspires  to  a  family  tree  and  a  coat-of- 
arms,  too.    I  saw  her  box  of  stationery  spilled  out 


t>2  MARY   WARE 

over  your  table  when  I  was  in  your  room  yester- 
day, and  it  had  quite  an  imposing  crest  on  the 
paper  —  a  unicorn  or  griffin  or  something,  pawing 
away  at  a  crown." 

Mary  pursed  her  lips  together  thoughtfully. 
"  That  might  explain  it.  Maybe  she  thinks  I'm 
only  a  sort  of  wild  North  American  Indian  because 
our  place  is  named  Ware's  Wigwam,  and  that  it 
is  beneath  her  dignity  to  be  intimate  with  her  in- 
feriors. But  if  that  is  what  is  the  matter,  she's  just 
a  snob,  and  can't  be  very  sure  of  her  own  position." 

"  She  is  only  sixteen,"  Betty  reminded  her,  "  even 
if  she  does  look  so  mature  and  imposing.  "  I  have 
an  idea  that  the  way  she  has  been  brought  up  is 
responsible  for  her  attitude  now.  "  It  has  given 
her  a  false  standard  of  values.  Now,  Mary,  here 
is  a  chance  for  you  to  do  some  real  missionary 
work,  and  teach  her  that  '  the  rank  is  but  the 
guinea's  stamp'  and  that  we're  all  pure  gold,  '  for 
a'  that  and  a'  that/  no  matter  if  we  are  not  mem- 
bers of  the  British  peerage." 

"  I  wouldn't  mind  telling  her  anything  if  she 
were  a  real  heathen,"  was  Mary's  earnest  answer. 
"  But  trying  to  break  through  her  reserve  is  a 
harder  task  than  butting  a  hole  through  the  Chinese 
wall.  You've  no  idea  how  haughty  she  is.  Well, 
I  don't  care  —  much," 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  03 

She  cared  enough,  however,  to  take  a  lively  in- 
terest in  her  room-mate's  pedigree,  after  seeing  the 
crest  on  her  note  paper.  Later  in  the  morning 
when  some  literature  references  made  it  necessary 
for  her  to  go  to  the  library,  she  looked  around  for 
a  certain  fat  volume  she  had  pored  over  several 
times  during  those  idle  days  before  the  beginning 
of  school.  It  was  Burke's  Peerage.  She  had 
looked  into  it  because  of  the  story  of  Edryn,  finding 
many  mottoes  as  interesting  as  the  one  in  the  great 
amber  window  on  the  stairs.  Now  she  turned  to 
the  B's  and  rapidly  scanned  the  columns  till  she 
came  to  the  Berkeley s.  For  generations  there  had 
been  an  Evelyn  in  the  family.  What  a  long,  long 
time  they  had  had  to  shape  their  lives  by  their 
motto,  and  grow  worthy  of  their  family  traditions! 
No  wTonder  that  Evelyn  had  that  air  of  gentle  breed- 
ing and  calm  poise  like  Madam  Chartley's. 

Mary  had  already  on  a  previous  occasion  looked 
in  vain  for  the  name  of  Ware,  and  when  she  failed 
to  find  it,  consoled  herself  with  the  thought  that 
for  three  hundred  years  it  had  been  handed  down 
with  honour  in  the  annals  of  New  England.  Staunch 
patriots  the  Wares  had  been  in  the  old  colony  days, 
sturdy  and  stern  of  conscience,  and  Mary  had  been 
taught  to  believe  that  their  struggle  to  wrest  a  liv- 


64  MARY  WARE 

ing  from  the  rocky  hills  while  they  built  up  a  state 
was  as  worthy  of  honour  as  any  knightly  deed  of  the 
Round  Table.  She  was  prouder  of  those  early  an- 
cestors who  delved  and  spun  and  toiled  with  their 
hands  at  yeoman  tasks,  than  the  later  ones,  who 
were  ministers  and  judges  and  college  professors. 

Until  now  she  had  never  attached  any  importance 
to  the  fact  that  a  branch  of  her  mother's  family 
had  been  a  titled  one,  because  she  was  such  a  pat- 
riotic little  American,  and  because  so  many  years 
had  elapsed  since  that  particular  branch  had  severed 
its  connection  with  the  family  in  the  old  world.  But 
now  Mary  felt  a  peculiar  thrill  of  satisfaction  when 
she  found  the  name  in  the  peerage  and  realized  that 
some  of  the  blue  blood  which  had  inspired  those 
great-great-grandfathers  to  knightly  deeds  was 
coursing  through  her  own  veins.  The  crest  was  a 
winged  spur,  with  the  motto,  "  Ready,  aye  ready." 

"  Maybe  that  is  the  reason  the  '  King's  call '  has 
come  to  me  as  it  did  to  Edryn,"  she  mused,  her 
chin  in  her  hand  and  her  eyes  gazing  dreamily  out 
of  the  window.  Then  she  forgot  all  about  her  quest 
for  the  literature  references,  for  in  her  revery  she 
was  listening  to  the  Voices  again,  and  seeing  herself 
in  a  dimly  foreshadowed  future,  the  centre  of  an 
acclaiming  crowd.    What  great  part  she  was  to  play 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  65 

she  did  not  know,  but  when  the  time  should  come 
for  the  fulfilment  of  her  high  destiny,  she  would 
rise  to  meet  it  like  the  winged  spur,  crying  "  Ready, 
aye  ready,"  as  all  those  brave  ancestors  had  done. 
It  was  in  the  blood  to  respond  thus. 

The  hunter's  horn  on  the  terrace  outside,  sound- 
ing the  call  to  recreation,  roused  her  from  her  day- 
dreams, and  she  came  to  herself  with  a  start.  But 
before  she  hurried  away  to  the  office  where  the  mail 
was  being  distributed,  she  made  a  quick  survey  of 
the  H's.  To  her  surprise  the  name  of  Hurst  was  not 
among  them.  She  fairly  ran  down  the  stairs  to 
report  her  discovery  to  Elise. 

When  the  invitations  for  the  evening  were  all 
distributed  Mary  went  up  stairs  wailing  out  her 
consternation  to  A.O.  She  was  to  be  escorted  by 
Jane  Ridge  way,  the  most  dignified  senior  in  the 
school. 

"  She's  the  kind  that  knows  such  an  awful  lot, 
and  you  have  to  be  on  your  p's  and  q's  with  her 
every  single  minute.  Cornie  says  her  father  is  in 
the  Cabinet,  and  her  mother  is  a  shining  intellectual 
light.  And  now  that  I've  been  warned  beforehand, 
I'll  not  be  able  to  utter  a  syllable  of  sense;  I  know 
that  I'll  just  gibber." 

When  she  went  to  her  room  to  dress  for  the  occa- 


66  MARY   WARE 

sion  that  night  there  was  a  great  bunch  of  hot- 
house roses  waiting  for  her  with  Jane's  card.  She 
knew  from  the  other  girls'  description  of  this  open- 
ing festivity  that  the  seniors  spared  no  expense  on 
this  occasion,  but  it  rather  overawed  her  to  receive 
such  an  extravagant  offering.  She  looked  across 
at  the  modest  bunch  of  white  and  purple  violets 
which  had  come  from  the  Warwick  Hall  conserva- 
tory for  Ethelinda,  and  wondered  if  there  had  not 
been  some  mistake.  Then  to  her  surprise,  Ethelinda, 
who  had  noticed  her  glance,  spoke  to  her. 

"  Sweet,  aren't  they !  Miss  Berkeley  sent  them, 
or  rather  Lady  Evelyn,  I  should  say.  She  is  to  be 
my  escort  to-night." 

It  was  Mary's  besetting  sin  to  put  people  right 
whom  she  thought  were  mistaken,  so  she  answered 
hastily,  "  Oh,  no !  You  oughtn't  to  call  her  Lady 
Evelyn.  She  doesn't  like  it.  She  wants  to  be  just 
like  the  other  girls  as  long  as  she  is  in  an  American 
school." 

Ethelinda  drew  herself  up  with  a  stare,  and 
asked  in  a  patronizing  tone  that  nettled  Mary: 

"  May  I  ask  how  you  happen  to  know  so  much 
about  her?  " 

Equally  lofty  in  her  manner,  and  in  a  tone  com- 
ically like  Ethelinda's,  Mary  answered,  "  You  may. 


THE  LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  6j 

Miss  Lewis  gave  me  that  bit  of  information,  and 
for  the  rest  I  looked  her  up  in  Burke's  Peerage. 
She  comes  of  a  very  illustrious  and  noble  family, 
so  of  course  she  feels  perfectly  sure  of  her  position, 
and  doesn't  have  to  draw  the  lines  about  herself  to 
preserve  her  dignity  as  some  people  do.  Cornie 
Dean  was  telling  me  about  a  girl  who  was  in  the 
school  last  year  who  made  such  a  fuss  about  her 
pedigree  that  she  couldn't  be  friends  with  more 
than  three  of  the  girls.  The  rest  weren't  high 
enough  caste  for  her.  She  sported  a  crest  and  all 
that,  and  they  found  out  that  she  hadn't  a  particle 
of  right  to  it.  Her  father  had  struck  it  rich  in 
some  lumber  deal,  and  bought  a  gallery  of  ancestral 
portraits,  and  paid  a  man  a  small  fortune  to  fix  him 
up  a  coat  of  arms.  She  had  no  end  of  money,  but 
she  wasn't  the  real  thing,  and  Cornie  says  that  paste 
diamonds  won't  go  down  with  this  school.  They 
can  spot  them  every  time." 

Ethelinda  made  no  comment  for  a  moment,  but 
presently  asked  in  a  strained  tone,  "  Did  you  have 
any  doubts  of  Miss  Berkeley's  claims?  Is  that 
why  you  looked  her  up  in  the  peerage  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Mary,  honestly.  "  I  was  looking  for 
my  own  name.  But  there  wasn't  a  single  Ware  in 
it.     And   then" — she  couldn't   resist  this  thrust, 


68  MARY    WARE 

especially  as  she  felt  it  was  a  p^rt  of  the  missionary 
work  she  had  undertaken  —  "I  looked  for  Hurst, 
too,  as  the  girls  said  you  had  a  crest." 

"  Well  ?  "  came  the  question,  a  trifle  defiantly. 

"  It's  not  in  the  Peerage." 

Ethelinda  drew  herself  up  haughtily  as  if  she  dis- 
dained an  explanation,  yet  felt  forced  to  make  one. 
"  It  is  not  my  father's  crest  I  use,"  she  announced. 
It  came  from  back  in  my  mother's  family." 

"  Oh !  "  said  Mary,  with  significant  emphasis. 
"I  see!"  Then  she  added  cheerfully,  "I  could 
have  one,  too,  on  a  count  like  that,  way  back  among 
my  great-grandmothers.  But  I  wouldn't  have  any 
real  right  to  it.  You  have  to  be  in  the  direct  line  of 
descent,  you  know,  and  it  is  silly  for  us  Americans 
to  try  to  hang  on  by  a  hair  to  the  main  trunk  of  the 
family  tree,  when  all  the  world  knows  we  belong 
on  the  outside  branches." 

There  was  no  answer  to  this  and  the  dressing 
proceeded  in  a  silence  as  profound  as  the  morning's, 
until  Mary  saw  that  Ethelinda  was  struggling  in  a 
frantic  effort  to  free  herself  from  the  hooks  of  her 
dress  which  had  caught  in  her  hair. 

"  Wait,"  she  called,  hurrying  to  the  rescue. 
"  Let  me  hook  it  for  you.  What  a  perfect  dream 
of  a  gown  it  is ! "  she  added  in  frank  admiration, 


THE   LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  69 

as  she  deftly  fastened  it  up  the  back.  "  It  looks  like 
the  kind  in  the  fairy  tales  that  are  woven  out  of 
moon-beams.  Here,  let  me  fix  your  hair,  where  the 
hooks  pulled  it  loose." 

She  tucked  in  the  straggling  locks  with  a  few  soft 
pats  and  touches  which,  with  the  compliment,  molli- 
fied Ethelinda  a  trifle,  in  spite  of  her  resentment 
over  the  former  speech.  But  it  still  rankled,  and 
she  could  not  forbear  saying  a  little  spitefully, 
"Thanks!  What  a  soft,  light  touch  you  have. 
Quite  like  a  maid  I  had  last  year.  By  the  way,  her 
name  was  Mary.  And  it  was  awfully  funny.  It 
happened  at  that  time  that  every  maid  in  the  house 
was  named  that,  and  whenever  mamma  called 
*  Mary '  five  or  six  of  them  would  come  running.  I 
used  to  tell  my  maid  that  if  I  had  as  common  a 
name  as  that  I'd  change  it." 

Something  in  the  way  she  said  it  set  Mary's 
teeth  on  edge.  She  had  never  known  any  one  be- 
fore who  purposely  said  disagreeable  things.  She 
often  said  them  herself  in  her  blundering,  impet- 
uous way,  but  was  heartily  sorry  as  soon  as  they 
were  uttered.  Now  for  the  first  time  in  her  life 
she  wanted  to  retaliate  by  saying  the  meanest 
thing  she  could  think  of.  So  she  answered,  hotly, 
"  Oh,  I  don't  know.     I'd  rather  be  named  Mary 


70  MARY   WARE 

than  a  name  that  means  noble  snake,  like  Ethel- 
inda." 

"  Who  told  you  it  means  that?  "  was  Ethelinda's 
astonished  demand.     "  I  don't  believe  it." 

"  You've  only  to  consult  Webster,"  was  the  dig- 
nified reply.  "  I  looked  your  name  up  in  the  dic- 
tionary the  day  I  first  heard  it.  Ethel  means  noble, 
but  Ethelinda  means  noble  snake.  I  suppose  nobody 
ever  calls  you  just  Inda,"  she  added  meaningly. 

Ethelinda's  eyes  flashed,  but  she  had  no  answer 
for  this  queer  girl  who  seemed  to  have  the  Diction- 
ary and  the  Peerage  and  no  telling  how  many  other 
sources  of  information  at  her  tongue's  end. 

Again  the  dressing  went  on  in  silence.  Mary  fin- 
ished first,  all  but  a  hook  or  two  which  she  could 
not  reach,  and  which  she  could  not  muster  up  cour- 
age to  ask  Ethelinda  to  do  for  her.  Finally,  gather- 
ing up  her  armful  of  roses,  she  went  across  the  hall 
to  ask  Dorene's  assistance. 

"Why,  of  course!  "  she  cried,  opening  the  door 
wide  at  Mary's  knock.  "  You  poor  child !  Think 
of  having  a  room-mate  who  is  such  a  Queen  of 
Sheba  she  couldn't  do  a  little  thing  like  that  for 
you!" 

"  But  I  didn't  ask  her,"  Mary  hurried  to  explain, 
eager  to  be  perfectly  honest.     "  I  had  just  made 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  71 

such  a  mean  remark  to  her  that  I  hadn't  the  courage 
to  ask  a  favour." 

"You!"  laughed  Cornie.  "I  can't  imagine  a 
good  natured  little  puss  like  you  saying  anything 
very  savage  to  anybody." 

"  But  I  did,"  confessed  Mary.  "  I  wanted  to 
hurt  her  feelings.  I  fairly  ached  to  do  it.  I  should 
have  said  something  meaner  still  if  I  could  have 
thought  of  it  quick  enough.  Isn't  it  awful?  Only 
the  second  day  of  the  term  to  have  things  come  to 
such  a  pass!  Everything  we  do  seems  to  rub  the 
other's  fur  up  the  wrong  way." 

"  I'd  ask  Madam  to  change  me  to  some  other 
room,"  said  Dorene,  but  Mary  resented  the  sugges- 
tion. 

"  No,  indeed !  I'll  not  have  it  said  that  I  was 
such  a  fuss-cat  as  all  that.  I'll  make  myself  get 
along  with  her." 

"  Well,  I  don't  envy  you  the  task,"  was  Cornie's 
rejoinder.  I  never  can  resist  the  temptation  to  take 
people  down  when  they  get  high  and  mighty.  I 
heard  her  telling  one  of  the  girls  at  the  breakfast 
table  that  she'd  never  ridden  on  a  street-car  in  all 
her  life  till  she  came  to  Washington.  She  made 
Fanchon  take  her  across  the  city  in  one  instead  of 
calling  a  carriage  as  they  always  do,    They  have  a 


72  MARY   WARE 

garage  full  of  machines  at  home,  and  I  don't  know 
how  many  horses.  She  said  it  in  a  way  to  make 
people  who  had  always  ridden  in  public  conveyances 
feel  mighty  plebeian  and  poor- folksy,  although  she 
insisted  that  street-cars  are  lots  of  fun.  '  They  give 
you  a  funny  sensation  when  they  stop.'  Those  were 
her  very  words." 

"  Well,  of  all  things !  "  cried  Mary,  then  after  a 
moment's  silent  musing,  "  It  never  struck  me  be- 
fore, what  different  worlds  we  have  been  brought 
up  in.  But  if  a  street-car  ride  is  as  much  of  a 
novelty  to  her  as  an  automobile  ride  would  be  to 
me,  I  don't  wonder  that  she  spoke  about  it.  I  know 
I'd  talk  about  my  sensations  in  an  auto  if  I'd  ever 
been  in  one,  and  it  wouldn't  be  bragging,  either. 
Maybe  all  our  other  experiences  have  been  just  as 
different,"  she  went  on,  her  judicial  mind  trying  to 
look  at  life  from  Ethelinda's  view-point,  in  order 
to  judge  her  fairly. 

"  I  wonder  what  sort  of  a  girl  I  would  have 
been,  if  instead  of  always  having  the  Wolf  at 
the  door,  we'd  have  had  bronze  lions  guarding 
the  portals,  and  all  the  money  that  heart  could 
wish." 

"Money!"  sniffed  Cornie.  "It  isn't  that  that 
makes  the  difference  in  Ethelinda.     Look  at  Alta 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  73 

Westman,  a  million  in  her  own  right.  There  isn't 
a  sweeter,  jollier,  friendlier  girl  in  the  school." 

"  Any  way,"  continued  Mary,  "  I'd  like  to  be 
able  to  put  myself  in  Ethelinda's  place  for  about 
an  hour,  and  see  how  things  look  to  her  —  espe- 
cially how  /  look  to  her.  I'm  glad  I  thought  about 
that.  It  will  make  it  easier  for  me  to  get  along 
with  her,  for  it  will  help  me  to  make  allowances 
for  lots  of  things." 

The  door  stood  ajar,  and  catching  sight  of  Jane 
Ridgeway  coming  up  the  hall,  Mary  started  to 
meet  her. 

"  Remember,"  called  Corni*  after  her.  "  We've 
taken  you  under  our  wing,  aAd  claim  you  for  our 
sorority.  We're  not  going  to  have  any  of  the 
Lloydsboro  Valley  girls  imposed  on,  and  if  she 
gets  too  uppity  she'll  find  herself  boycotted." 

As  the  door  closed  behind  her  Dorene  remarked, 
"  She's  a  dear  little  thing.  Vm  going  to  see  that 
she  has  so  much  attention  to-night  that  Ethelinda 
will  wake  up  to  the  fact  that  she's  worth  having 
for  a  friend.  I'm  going  to  ask  Evelyn  Berkeley 
to  make  a  special  point  of  being  nice  to  her." 

The  thought  that  Cornie  considered  her  one  of 
the  Lloydsboro  girls  sen^  Mary  away  with  a  pleas- 
urable thrill  that  made*  her  cheeks  glow  all  eve- 


74  MARY   WARE 

ning.  There  was  something  in  the  donning  of  party 
clothes  that  always  loosened  her  tongue,  and  con- 
scious of  looking  her  best  she  plunged  into  the  fes- 
tivity of  the  hour  with  such  evident  enjoyment  that 
others  naturally  gravitated  towards  her  to  share  it. 

"  Congratulations !  "  whispered  Betty,  happening 
to  pass  her  towards  the  close  of  the  evening. 
"  You're  quite  one  of  the  belles  of  the  ball." 

"  Isn't  it  simply  perfect?  "  sighed  Mary,  her  face 
beaming. 

Herr  Vogelbaum  had  just  come  in  and  was  set- 
tling himself  at  the  piano,  in  place  of  the  musicians 
who  had  been  performing.  This  was  an  especial 
treat  not  on  the  programme,  and  all  that  was  needed 
in  Mary's  opinion  to  complete  a  heavenly  evening. 
He  played  the  same  improvisation  that  had  caught 
her  up  in  its  magic  spell  the  day  of  her  arrival,  and 
she  went  to  her  room  in  the  uplifted  frame  of  mind 
which  finds  everything  perfection.  Even  her 
strained  relations  with  Ethelinda  seemed  a  trifle,  the 
tiniest  thorn  in  a  world  full  of  roses.  Her  last 
waking  thought  was  a  resolution  to  be  so  good  and 
patient  that  even  that  thorn  should  disappear  in 
time. 

Mary's  popularity  was  not  without  its  effect  upon 
Ethelinda,  especially  the  Lady  Evelyn's  evident  in- 


THE   LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  75 

terest  in  her.  It  argued  that  she  was  worth  know- 
ing. Then,  too,  it  would  have  been  a  hard  heart 
which  could  have  steeled  itself  against  Mary's  per- 
sistent efforts  to  be  friendly.  It  was  a  tactful  ef- 
fort also,  making  her  daily  put  herself  in  Ethel- 
inda's  place  and  consider  everything  from  her  view- 
point before  speaking.  Many  a  time  it  helped  her 
curb  her  active  little  tongue,  and  many  a  time  it 
helped  her  to  condone  the  one  fault  which  particu- 
larly irritated  her. 

"  Of  course  it  is  hard  for  her  to  keep  her  half  of 
the  room  in  order,"  she  would  say  to  herself. 
"  She's  always  had  a  maid  to  wait  on  her,  and  has 
never  been  obliged  to  pick  up  even  her  own  stock- 
ings. She  doesn't  know  how  to  be  neat,  and  prob- 
ably I  shouldn't,  either,  if  I  hadn't  been  so  care- 
fully trained." 

Then  she  would  hang  the  rumpled  skirts  back  in 
the  wardrobe  where  they  belonged,  rescue  her  over- 
turned work-basket  from  some  garment  that  Ethel- 
inda  had  carelessly  thrown  across  it,  and  patiently 
straighten  out  the  confusion  of  books  and  pa- 
pers on  the  table  they  shared  in  common.  Although 
there  were  no  more  frozen  silences  between  them 
their  conversations  were  far  from  satisfactory. 
They  were  totally  uncongenial.     But  after  the  first 


76  MARY   WARE 

week,  that  part  of  their  relationship  did  not  affect 
Mary  materially.  She  was  too  happily  absorbed  in 
the  work  and  play  of  school  life,  throwing  herself 
into  every  recitation,  every  excursion  and  every 
experience  with  a  zest  that  left  no  time  for  mourn- 
ing over  what  might  have  been.  At  bed-time  there 
was  always  her  shadow-chum  to  share  the  recollec- 
tions of  the  day.  One  of  her  letters  to  Joyce  gave 
a  description  of  the  state  of  resignation  to  which 
she  finally  attained. 

"  Think  of  it !  "  she  wrote.  "  Me  with  my  Puri- 
tan conscience  and  big  bump  of  order,  and  my  r.m. 
calmly  embroidering  this  Sabbath  afternoon!  Her 
dressing  table,  her  bed  and  the  chairs  look  like  rub- 
bish heaps.  Her  bed-room  slippers  in  the  middle 
of  the  floor  this  time  of  day  make  me  want  to  gnash 
my  teeth.  Really  it  is  a  disaster  to  live  with  some 
one  who  scrambles  her  things  in  with  yours  all  the 
time.  The  disorder  gets  on  my  nerves  some  days 
till  I  want  to  scream.  There  are  times .  when  I 
think  I  shall  be  obliged  to  rise  up  in  my  wrath 
like  old  Samson,  and  smite  her  *  hip  and  thigh  with 
a  great  slaughter.' 

"  In  most  things  I  have  been  able  to  *  compro- 
mise.' Margaret  Elwood,  one  of  the  Juniors, 
taught  me  that.    She  tried  it  with  one  of  her  room- 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  77 

mates,  now  happily  a  back  number.  Margaret  said 
this  girl  loved  cheap  perfumes,  for  instance,  and 
she  herself  loathed  them.  So  she  filled  all  the 
drawers  and  wardrobes  with  those  nasty  camphor 
moth-balls,  which  the  r.m.  couldn't  endure,  and 
when  she  protested,  Margaret  offered  a  compro- 
mise. She  would  cut  out  the  moth-balls,  even  at 
the  expense  of  having  her  clothes  ruined,  if  the 
r.m.  would  swear  off  on  musk  and  the  like. 

"  I  tried  that  plan  to  break  E.  of  keeping  the 
light  on  when  I  was  sleepy.  One  night  I  lay  awake 
until  I  couldn't  stand  it  any  longer,  and  then  began 
to  hum  in  a  low,  droning  chant,  sort  of  under  my 
breath,  like  an  exasperating  mosquito :  '  Langh-'mg 
zua-ter\  Big  chief's  daugh-terl  '  till  I  nearly  drove 
my  own  self  distracted.  I  could  see  her  frown  and 
change  her  position  as  if  she  were  terribly  annoyed, 
and  after  I  had  hummed  it  about  a  thousand  times 
she  asked,  '  For  heaven's  sake,  Mary,  is  there  any- 
thing that  will  induce  you  to  stop  singing  that 
thing?    I  can't  read  a  word.' 

" '  Why,  yes,'  I  answered  sweetly.  '  Does  it 
annoy  you?  I  was  only  singing  to  pass  the  time 
till  you  turn  off  the  light.  I  can't  sleep  a  wink. 
We'll  just  compromise.' 

"  She  turned  it  out  in  a  jiffy  and  didn't  say  a 


78  MARY   WARE 

word,  but  I  notice  that  she  pays  attention  to  the  sig- 
nals now,  and  does  her  reading  before  they  sound 
'  taps.'  All  this  is  teaching  yours  truly  a  wonderful 
amount  of  self  control,  and  I  have  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that  everything  at  Warwick  Hall,  disagree- 
ables and  all,  are  working  together  for  my  good." 

So  matters  went  on  for  several  weeks.  Mary 
meekly  hung  up  Ethelinda's  dresses  and  put  the 
room  in  order  whenever  it  was  disarranged,  and 
Ethelinda,  always  accustomed  to  being  waited  upon, 
took  it  as  a  service  due  her  from  one  whom  ne- 
cessity had  placed  in  a  position  always  to  serve.  If 
she  had  accepted  it  silently  Mary  might  have  gone 
on  to  the  end  of  the  term  making  excuses  for  her, 
and  making  good  her  neglect;  but  Ethelinda  re- 
marked one  day  to  one  of  the  Sophomores  that  if 
Mary  Ware  ever  wanted  a  recommendation  as  lady's 
maid  she  would  gladly  give  it.  She  seemed  nat- 
urally cut  out  for  that. 

The  remark  was  repeated  without  loss  of  time, 
and  in  the  same  patronizing  tone  in  which  it  was 
made.  Mary's  boasted  self-control  flew  to  the  four 
winds.  She  was  half  way  down  the  stairs  when 
she  heard  it,  but  turning  abruptly  she  marched  back 
to  her  room,  her  cheeks  red  and  her  eyes  blazing. 
Throwing  open  the  door  she  gave  one  glance  around 


INSTEAD,    IT    SEEMED    AS     IF    A     SMALL    CYCLONE     SWEPT    THROUGH. 
THE    ROOM." 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  79 

the  room.  The  disorder  happened  to  be  a  little 
worse  than  usual.  A  wet  umbrella  leaned  against 
her  bed,  and  Ethelinda's  damp  coat  lay  across  the 
white  counterpane,  for  she  had  been  walking  in  the 
rain,  and  had  thrown  them  down  in  the  most  con- 
venient spot  on  entering.  Other  articles  were  scat- 
tered about  promiscuously,  but  Mary  made  no  at- 
tempt as  usual  to  put  them  in  place. 

Instead,  it  seemed  as  if  a  small  cyclone  swept 
through  the  room.  The  wet  umbrella  was  sent 
flying  across  to  Ethelinda's  bed.  Gloves,  coat,  and 
handsome  plumed  hat  followed,  regardless  of  where 
they  lit,  or  in  what  condition.  Half  a  dozen  books 
went  next,  tumbling  pell  mell  into  a  corner.  Then 
Ethelinda's  bed-room  slippers,  over  which  Mary  was 
always  stumbling,  hurtled  through  the  air,  and  an 
ivory  hair-brush  that  had  been  left  on  her  dressing- 
table.  They  whizzed  perilously  near  Ethelinda's 
head. 

"  There !  "  exclaimed  Mary,  choking  back  the 
angry  tremble  in  her  voice.  "  I'm  worn  out  trying 
to  keep  this  room  in  order  for  order's  sake!  The 
next  time  I  find  your  things  on  my  side  of  the 
room  I'll  pitch  them  out  of  the  window!  It's  no 
excuse  at  all  to  say  that  you've  always  had  some- 
body to  wait  on  you.    You've  always  had  your  two 


80  MARY   WARE 

hands,  too.  A  lady  is  supposed  to  have  some  sense 
of  her  own  obligations  and  of  other  people's  rights. 
Now  don't  you  dare  get  on  my  side  again !  " 

With  her  knees  trembling  under  her  till  she 
could  scarcely  move,  Mary  ran  out  of  the  room,  so 
frightened  by  what  she  had  done  that  she  did  not 
venture  back  till  bedtime.  Ethelinda  refused  to 
speak  to  her  for  several  days,  but  the  outburst  of 
temper  had  two  good  results.  One  was  that  there 
was  no  need  for  its  repetition,  and  Ethelinda  treated 
her  with  more  respect  from  then  on. 

It  had  come  to  her  with  a  shock,  that  Mary  was 
looking  down  on  her,  Ethelinda  Hurst,  pitying  her 
for  some  things  and  despising  her  for  others;  and 
though  she  shrugged  her  shoulders  at  first  and  was 
angry  at  the  thought,  she  found  herself  many  a 
time  trying  to  measure  up  to  Mary's  standards.  She 
couldn't  bear  for  those  keen  gray  eyes  to  look  her 
through,  as  if  they  were  weighing  her  in  the  bal- 
ance and  finding  her  wanting. 


CHAPTER   V 

A   FAD   AND   A    CHRISTMAS    FUND 

For  a  Freshman  to  start  a  fad  popular  enough  to 
spread  through  the  entire  school  was  an  unheard  of 
thing  at  Warwick  Hall,  but  A.O.  Miggs  had  that 
distinction  early  in  the  term.  Her  birthday  was  in 
October,  and  when  she  appeared  that  morning  with 
a  zodiac  ring  on  her  little  finger,  set  with  a  brilliant 
fire  opal,  there  was  a  mingled  outcry  of  admiration 
and  horror. 

"  Oh,  I  wouldn't  wear  an  opal  for  worlds !  "  cried 
one  superstitious  girl.  "  They're  dreadfully  un- 
lucky." 

"  Not  if  it  is  your  birthstone,"  announced  A.O., 
calmly  turning  her  hand  to  watch  the  flashing  of 
red  and  blue  lights  in  the  heart  of  the  gem.  "  It's 
bad  luck  not  to  wear  one  if  you  were  born  in  Oc- 
tober. It  says  on  the  card  that  came  in  the  box 
with  this : 

"  *  October's  child  is  born  for  woe 

And  life's  vicissitudes  must  know. 

Unless  she  wears  the  opal's  charm 

To  ward  off  every  care  and  harm. 

81 


82  MARY   WARE 

"  And  they  say  too  that  you  are  beloved  of  the 
gods  and  men  as  long  as  you  keep  your  faith  in 
it." 

"  Then  I'll  certainly  have  to  get  one,"  laughed 
Jane  Ridgeway,  who  had  joined  the  group,  "  for  I 
am  October's  child.    Let  me  see  it,  A.O." 

She  adjusted  her  glasses  and  took  the  plump  lit- 
tle hand  in  hers  for  inspection.  "  I  always  have 
thought  that  opals  are  the  prettiest  of  all  the  stones. 
Write  the  verse  out  for  me,  A.O.,  that's  a  good 
child.  I'll  send  it  home  for  the  family  to  see  how 
important  it  is  that  I  should  be  protected  by  such 
a  charm." 

This  from  a  senior,  the  dignified  and  exclusive 
Miss  Ridgeway,  put  the  seal  of  approval  on  the 
fashion,  and  when,  a  week  later,  she  appeared  with 
a  beautiful  Hungarian  opal  surrounded  by  tiny  dia- 
monds, with  her  zodiac  signs  engraved  on  the  wide 
circle  of  gold,  every  girl  in  school  wanted  a  birth- 
month  ring. 

Elise  wrote  home  asking  if  agates  were  expensive, 
and  if  she  might  have  one.  Not  that  she  thought 
they  were  pretty,  but  it  was  the  stone  for  June,  so 
of  course  she  ought  to  wear  one.  The  answer  came 
in  the  shape  of  an  old  heirloom,  a  Scotch  agate 
that  had  been  handed  down  in  the  family,  almost 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  S3 

since  the  days  of  Malcolm  the  Second.  It  had  been 
a  small  brooch,  worn  on  the  bosom  of  many  a  proud 
Maclntyre  dame,  but  never  had  it  evoked  such  in- 
terest as  when,  set  in  a  ring,  it  was  displayed  on 
Elise's  little  finger. 

After  that  there  was  a  general  demand  for  a 
jeweller's  catalogue  which  appeared  in  their  midst 
about  that  time.  One  page  was  devoted  to  illustra- 
tions of  such  stones  with  a  rhyme  for  each  month. 
The  firm  which  issued  the  catalogue  would  have 
been  surprised  at  the  rush  of  orders  had  they  not 
had  previous  dealings  with  Girls'  Schools.  The 
year  before  there  had  been  almost  as  great  a  de- 
mand for  tiny  gold  crosses,  and  the  year  before 
for  huge  silver  horse-shoes.  This  year  the  element 
of  superstition  helped  to  swell  the  orders.  When 
the  verse  said, 

"  The  August  born,  without  this  stone, 
'Tis  said  must  live  unloved  and  lone," 

of  course  no  girl  born  in  August  would  think  of 
living  a  week  longer  without  a  sardonyx,  especially 
when  the  catalogue  offered  the  genuine  article  as 
low  as  $2.75.  The  daughters  of  April  and  May, 
July  and  September  had  to  pay  more  for  their 
privileges,  but  they  did  it  gladly.  When  Cornie 
Dean  read, 


84  MARY   WARE 

"  Who  wears  an  emerald  all  her  life 
Shall  be  a  loved  and  honoured  wife," 

she  sold  her  pet  bangle  bracelet  that  afternoon  for 
ten  dollars,  and  added  half  her  month's  allowance 
to  buy  an  emerald  large  enough  to  hold  some  po- 
tency. 

Mary  pored  over  the  catalogue  longingly  when 
it  came  her  turn  to  have  it.    She  liked  her  verse: 

"  Who  on  this  world  of  ours  their  eyes 
In  March  first  open  shall  be  wise. 
In  days  of  peril  firm  and  brave, 
And  wear  a  bloodstone  to  their  grave." 

When  she  had  considered  sizes  and  prices  for 
awhile  she  took  out  her  bank  book  and  Christmas 
list  and  began  comparing  them  anxiously.  Betty, 
coming  into  the  room  presently,  found  her  so  ab- 
sorbed in  her  task  that  she  did  not  notice  the  open 
letter  Betty  carried,  and  the  gay  samples  of  chiffon 
and  silk  fluttering  from  the  envelope.  She  looked  up 
with  a  little  puckered  smile  as  Betty  drew  a  chair 
to  the  opposite  side  of  the  table,  asking  as  she  seated 
herself,  "What's  the  matter?  You  seem  to  be  in 
some  difficulty." 

"  It's  just  the  same  old  wolf  at  the  door,"  said 
Mary,  soberly.  "  I  have  enough  for  this  term's  ex- 
penses, all  the  necessary  things,  but  there's  nothing 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  85 

for  the  extras.  There  isn't  a  single  person  I  can  cut 
off  my  Christmas  list.  I've  put  down  what  I've  de- 
cided to  make  for  each  one,  and  what  the  bare  ma- 
terials will  cost,  and  although  I've  added  it  up  and 
added  it  down,  it  always  comes  out  the  same;  noth- 
ing left  to  get  the  ring  with." 

She  sat  jabbing  her  pencil  into  the  paper  for  a 
moment.  "  I  wish  there  were  ways  to  earn  money 
here  as  there  are  at  some  schools.  There  are  so 
many  things  I  need  it  for.  They'll  expect  me  to 
contribute  something  to  the  mock  Christmas  tree 
fund,  and  I  want  to  get  Jack  -  something  nice.  I 
couldn't  take  his  own  money  to  buy  him  a  present 
even  if  there  were  enough,  which  there  isn't.  I've 
already  made  him  everything  I  know  how  to  make, 
that  he  can  use,  and  men  don't  care  for  things  they 
can't  use,  but  that  are  just  pretty.,  as  girls  do.  Just 
look  what  a  beauty  bright  of  a  watch-fob  I've  found 
in  this  catalogue." 

She  turned  the  pages  eagerly.  "  It  is  a  blood- 
stone. The  very  thing  for  Jack,  for  his  birthday  is 
in  March,  too,  and  it  is  such  a  dark,  unpretentious 
stone  that  he  would  like  it.  But  —  it  costs  eight 
dollars." 

She  said  it  in  an  awed  tone  as  if  she  were  nam* 
ing  a  small  fortune. 


86  MARY  WARE 

"  Maybe  we  can  think  of  some  way  for  you  to 
earn  it,"  said  Betty,  encouragingly.  "  I'll  set  my 
wits  to  work  this  evening  as  soon  as  I've  finished 
looking  over  the  A  class  themes.  Because  none  of 
the  girls  has  ever  done  such  a  thing  before  in  the 
school  is  no  reason  why  you  should  not.  Look! 
This  is  what  I  came  in  to  show  you." 

It  was  several  pages  from  Lloyd's  last  letter,  and 
the  samples  of  some  new  dresses  she  was  having 
made.  For  a  little  space  the  wolf  at  the  door  drew 
in  its  claws,  and  Mary  forgot  her  financial  straits. 
Early  in  the  term  Betty  had  divined  how  much  the 
sharing  of  this  correspondence  meant  to  Mary.  She 
could  not  fail  to  see  how  eagerly  she  followed  the 
winsome  princess  through  her  gay  social  season  in 
town,  rejoicing  over  her  popularity,  interested  in 
everything  she  did  and  wore  and  treasuring  every 
mention  of  her  in  the  home  papers,  The  old  Colonel 
sent  Betty  the  Courier- Journal,  and  the  society  page 
was  regularly  turned  over  to  Mary.  There  was  a 
corner  in  her  scrap-book  marked,  "  My  Chum," 
rapidly  filling  with  accounts  of  balls,  dinners  and 
house-parties  at  which  she  had  been  a  guest.  This 
last  letter  had  several  messages  in  it  for  Mary,  so 
Betty  left  the  page  containing  them  with  her,  know- 
ing  they   would   be    folded    away   in    the    scrap- 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  87 

book  with  the  samples,  as  soon  as  her  back  was 
turned. 

"  I  was  out  at  Anchorage  for  this  last  week-end," 
ran  one  of  the  messages.  "  And  it  rained  so  hard 
one  night  that  what  was  to  have  been  an  informal 
dance  was  turned  into  an  old-fashioned  candy-pull. 
Not  more  than  half  a  dozen  guests  managed  to  get 
there.  Tell  Mary  that  I  tried  to  distinguish  myself 
by  making  some  of  that  Mexican  pecan  candy  that 
they  used  to  have  such  success  with  at  the  Wigwam. 
But  it  was  a  flat  failure,  and  I  think  I  must  have 
left  out  some  important  ingredient.  Ask  her  to 
please  send  me  the  recipe  if  she  can  remember  it." 

"  Probably  it  failed  because  she  didn't  have  the 
real  Mexican  sugar,"  said  Mary,  at  the  end  of  the 
reading.  "  It  comes  in  a  cone,  wrapped  in  a  queer 
kind  of  leaf,  so  I'm  sure  she  didn't  have  it.  I'll 
write  out  the  recipe  as  soon  as  I  get  back  from  my 
geometry  recitation,  and  add  a  foot-note,  explain- 
ing about  the  sugar." 

Somehow  it  was  hard  for  Mary  to  keep  her  mind 
on  lines  and  angles  that  next  hour.  She  kept  seeing 
a  merry  group  in  the  Wigwam  kitchen.  Lloyd  and 
Jack  and  Phil  Tremont  were  all  ranged  around  the 
white  table,  cracking  pecans,  and  picking  out  the 
firm  full  kernels,  while  Joyce  presided  over  the  bub* 


88  MARY   WARE 

bl'mg  kettle  on  the  stove.  She  wondered  if  Lloyd 
had  enjoyed  her  grown-up  party  as  much  as  she  had 
that  other  one,  when  Jack  said  such  utterly  ridicu- 
lous things  in  pigeon  English,  like  the  old  Chinese 
vegetable  man,  and  Phil  cake-walked  and  parodied 
funny  coon-songs  till  their  sides  ached  with  laugh- 
ing. 

At  the  close  of  the  recitation  a  hastily  scribbled 
note  from  Betty  was  handed  to  her. 

"  I  have  just  found  out,"  it  ran,  "  that  Mammy 
Easter  will  be  unable  to  furnish  her  usual  pralines 
and  Christmas  sweets  to  her  Warwick  Hall  cus- 
tomers this  year.  Why  don't  you  try  your  hand  at 
that  Mexican  candy  Lloyd  mentioned.  If  the  girls 
once  get  a  taste  it  will  be  '  advertised  by  its  loving 
friends  '  and  you  can  sell  quantities.  I  am  going  to 
the  city  this  afternoon,  and  can  order  the  sugar  for 
you.  If  they  wire  the  order  you  ought  to  be  able 
to  get  it  within  a  week.    E.  S." 

Mary  went  up  stairs  two  steps  at  a  bound,  step- 
ping on  the  front  of  her  dress  at  every  other  jump, 
and  only  saving  herself  from  sprawling  headlong 
as  she  reached  the  top,  by  catching  at  A.O.,  who  ran 
into  her  on  the  way  down.  She  could  not  get  back 
to  her  bank  book  and  her  Christmas  list  soon 
enough,  to  see  how  much  cash  she  had  on  hand,  and 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  8g 

compute  how  much  she  dared  squeeze  out  to  invest 
in  material. 

A  week  later  the  Domestic  Science  room  was 
turned  over  to  her  during  recreation  hour,  and  pres- 
ently a  delicious  odour  began  to  steal  out  into  the 
halls,  which  set  every  girl  within  range  to  sniffing 
hungrily.  Betty  explained  it  to  several,  and  there 
was  no  need  to  do  anything  more.  Every  one  was 
on  hand  for  her  share  when  the  samples  were  passed 
around,  and  the  new  business  venture  was  discussed 
in  every  room. 

"  Wouldn't  you  like  to  know  Jack  Ware?  "  asked 
Dorene  of  Cornie,  her  mouth  so  full  of  the  delicious 
sweets  that  she  could  only  mumble.  "  Any  man 
who  can  inspire  such  adoration  in  his  own  sister 
must  be  nothing  short  of  a  wonder." 

"  I  feel  that  I  do  know  him,"  responded  Coraie. 
"  That  I  am  quite  well  acquainted  with  him,  in  fact. 
And  I  quite  approve  of  '  my  brother  Jack.'  It's 
queer,  too,  for  usually  when  you  hear  a  person 
quoted  morning,  noon  and  night  you  get  so  that  you 
want  to  scream  when  his  name  is  mentioned.  Now 
there's  Babe  Meadows.  Will  you  ever  forget  the 
way  she  rang  the  changes  on  '  my  Uncle  Willie '  ? 
I  used  to  quote  that  line  from  Tennyson  under  my 
breath  —  "A  quinsy  choke  thy  cursed  note!'     It 


go  MARY  WARE 

was  '  Uncle  Willie  says  this  isn't  good  form '  and 
1  Uncle  Willie  says  they  don't  do  that  in  England  * 
till  you  got  worn  to  a  frazzle  having  that  old  Anglo- 
maniac  eternally  thrown  at  your  head.  But  the 
more  Mary  quotes  Jack  the  better  you  like  him." 

"  I  wonder  how  he  feels  about  Mary  taking  this 
way  to  earn  his  Christmas  present." 

"  Oh,  of  course  he  doesn't  know  she  is  doing  it, 
and  of  course  he  wouldn't  like  it  if  he  did.  But  he'd 
have  hard  work  stopping  her.  She  is  as  full  of 
energy  and  determination  as  a  locomotive  with  a 
full  head  of  steam  on,  and  I  imagine  he's  exactly 
like  her.  She  fondly  imagines  that  he  will  be  gov- 
ernor of  Arizona  some  day." 

"  There !  "  exclaimed  Dorene.  "  That  suggests 
the  dandiest  thing  for  us  to  put  on  the  mock  Christ- 
mas tree  for  her.  A  Jack-in-the-box !  She's  always 
springing  him  on  an  unsuspecting  public,  and  just 
about  as  unexpectedly  as  those  little  mannikins  bob 
up.  She  has  used  him  so  often  to  '  point  her  morals 
and  adorn  her  tales  '  that  every  girl  in  school  will 
see  the  joke." 

"  Well,  the  future  governor  of  Arizona  will  get 
his  bloodstone  fob  all  right  as  far  as  my  patronage 
will  help,"  said  Cornie,  when  she  had  laughingly 
applauded    Dorene's    suggestion.       She    carefully 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  91 

picked  up  the  last  crumb.  "  I  shall  speak  for  three 
pounds  of  this  right  off.  Papa  has  such  a  sweet 
tooth  that  he'd  a  thousand  times  rather  have  a  box 
of  this  than  a  dozen  silk  mufflers  and  shaving  cases 
and  such  things  that  usually  fall  to  a  man's  lot  at 
Christmas." 

If  the  girls  in  this  exclusive  school  thought  it 
strange  that  one  of  their  number  should  start  a 
money-making  enterprise,  no  whisper  of  it  reached 
Mary.  Her  sturdy  independence  forbade  any  air 
of  patronage,  and  she  was  such  a  general  favourite 
that  ^whatever  she  did  was  passed  over  with  a 
laugh.  The  few  who  might  have  been  inclined  to 
criticize  found  it  an  unpopular  thing  to  do.  The  ob- 
ject for  which  she  was  working  enlisted  every  one's 
interest.  Jack  would  have  ground  his  teeth  with 
mortification  had  he  known  that  every  girl  in  school 
was  interested  in  his  getting  a  bloodstone  watch-fob 
in  his  Christmas  stocking,  and  daily  discussed  the 
means  by  which  it  was  being  procured. 

Orders  came  in  rapidly,  and  Mary  spent  every 
spare  moment  in  cracking  pecans,  and  picking  out 
the  kernels  so  carefully  that  they  fell  from  the  shells 
in  unbroken  halves.  It  was  a  tedious  undertaking 
and  even  her  study  hours  were  encroached  upon. 
Not  that  she  ever  neglected  a  lesson  for  the  sake 


92  MARY  WARE 

of  the  pecans,  for,  as  she  said  to  Elise,  "  I've  set 
my  heart  on  taking  the  valedictory  for  Jack's  sake, 
and  of  course  I  couldn't  sacrifice  that  ambition  for 
all  the  watch-fobs  in  the  catalogue.  He  wouldn't 
want  one  at  that  price.  But  I've  found  that  I  can 
pick  out  nuts  and  learn  French  verbs  at  the  same 
time.  If  you  and  A.O.  will  come  up  to  the  Dom. 
Sci.  this  afternoon  at  four  thirty,  and  not  let  any 
of  the  other  girls  know,  I'll  let  you  scrape  the  kettle 
and  eat  the  scraps  that  crumble  from  the  corners 
when  I  cut  the  squares.  But  I  can  not  let  any  one 
in  while  I'm  measuring  and  boiling.  I  couldn't  af- 
ford to  make  a  mistake." 

Promptly  at  the  time  set,  the  girls  tapped  for  ad- 
mission, for  there  was  no  denying  the  drawing 
qualities  of  Mary's  wares.  The  pun  was  common 
property  in  the  school. 

"  Elise,"  said  A.O.,  pausing  in  her  critical  tasting, 
when  they  had  been  at  it  some  time.  "  I  really  be- 
lieve that  this  is  better  than  Huyler's  hot  fudge 
Sun-balls.  And  it  is  lots  better  than  the  candy  that 
Lieutenant  Logan  sent  you  last  week." 

Elise  made  a  face  expressing  both  surprise  and 
reproof.  "  Considering  that  you  ate  the  lion's  share 
of  it,  Miss  Miggs,  that  speech  is  neither  pretty  nor 
polite." 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  93 

"  I  wonder,"  continued  A.O.,  paying  no  attention 
to  her,  "  if  the  Lieutenant  knows  what  a  public 
benefactor  he  is,  when  he  sends  you  bon-bons  and 
books  and  things."  She  had  enjoyed  his  many  of- 
ferings to  Elise  as  much  as  the  recipient  and  thought 
it  wise  to  follow  her  first  speech  with  a  compliment. 

"  Well,  Agnes  Olive,  if  you  feel  that  you  have 
profited  so  much  by  his  benefactions,  then  you  are 
not  playing  fair  if  you  don't  invite  some  of  us  down 
to  meet  your  '  special,'  when  he  comes  next  week. 
Mary,  what  do  you  think?  A.O.  has  a  suitor!  A 
boy  from  home.  He  is  to  come  next  week,  armed 
with  a  note  from  her  '  fond  payrents,'  giving  him 
permission  to  call.  After  talking  about  him  all  term 
and  getting  my  curiosity  up  to  fever  heat  about  such 
a  paragon  as  she  makes  him  out  to  be,  she  blasts 
all  my  hopes  by  flatly  refusing  to  let  me  meet  him. 
Pig!  "  she  made  a  grimace  of  mock  disgust  at  A.O. 

"  I  wouldn't  care,  if  you  weren't  such  an  awful 
tease,"  admitted  A.O.  "  But  I  know  how  you'll 
criticize  him  afterward.  You'll  make  a  byword  of 
everything  he  said  and  quote  it  to  me  till  kingdom 
come.  You  know  how  it  would  be,  don't  you, 
Mary?  "  turning  to  her.  "  You  wouldn't  want  her 
taking  notes  on  everything  he  said  if  you  had  a  — 
a- — a  friend  —  " 


94  MARY   WARE 

"  '  Oh,  call  it  by  some  better  name,  for  friendship 
sounds  too  cold/  "  interrupted  Elise. 

"  Well,  I  haven't  any  a  —  a  —  whatever  it  is 
Elise  wants  to  call  it,"  said  Mary,  laughing.  "  I 
only  wish  I  had.  I've  always  thought  it  would  be 
nice  to  have  one,  but  I  suppose  I'll  have  to  go  to  the 
end  of  my  days  singing :  '  Every  lassie  has  her  lad- 
die, Nane  they  say  hae  I.'  That  has  always  seemed 
such  a  sad  song  to  me." 

"  Oh,  oh !  "  cried  Elise,  perversely,  who  seemed 
to  be  in  a  mood  for  teasing  everybody.  She  pointed 
an  accusing  spoon  at  her  before  putting  it  back  in 
her  mouth. 

"  What  about  Phil  Tremont,  I'd  like  to  know ! 
He  saved  her  from  an  Indian  once,  A.O.,  out  on  the 
desert.  It  was  dreadfully  romantic.  And  when  he 
was  best  man  at  Eugenia  Forbes's  wedding,  and 
Mary  was  flower  girl,  Mary  got  the  shilling  that 
was  in  the  bride's  cake.  It  was  an  old  English 
shilling,  coined  in  the  reign  of  Bloody  Mary,  with 
Philip's  and  Mary's  heads  on  it.  That  is  a  sure 
sign  they  were  meant  for  each  other.  Phil  said 
right  out  at  the  table  before  everybody  that  fate 
had  ordered  that  he  should  be  the  lucky  man.  Mary 
has  that  shilling  this  blessed  minute,  put  away  in 
her  purse  for  a  pocket  piece,  and  she  carries  it  every- 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  95 

where  she  goes.  I  saw  it  yesterday  when  she  was 
looking  in  her  purse  for  a  key,  and  she  got  as  red 
as  —  as  red  as  she  is  this  minute." 

Elise  finished  gleefully,  elated  with  the  success  of 
her  teasing.  "  My !  How  you  are  blushing,  Mary. 
Look  at  her,  A.O."  Her  dark  eyes  twinkled  mis- 
chievously as  she  sang  in  a  meaning  tone : 

"  Amang  the  train  there  is  a  swain 

I  dearly  lo'e  mysel'. 
But  what's  his  name  or  where's  his  hame 

I  dinna  choose  to  tell." 

"  I'm  not  blushing,"  protested  Alary,  hotly. 
"  And  it  is  silly  to  talk  that  way  when  everybody 
knows  that  Phil  Tremont  never  cared  anything  for 
any  girl  except  Lloyd  Sherman." 

"  Maybe  not  at  one  time,"  insisted  Elise.  "  And 
neither  did  Lieutenant  Logan  care  about  any  girl 
but  my  beloved  sister  Allison  at  one  time.  I'm  not 
mentioning  names,  but  you  know  very  well  that 
she's  not  the  one  he  is  crazy  about  now.  Just  wait 
till  fate  brings  you  and  Phil  together  again.  You'll 
probably  meet  him  during  the  Christmas  vacation 
if  you  go  to  New  York." 

Mary  made  no  answer,  only  thrust  a  knife  under 
the  edge  of  the  candy  in  the  largest  plate,  as  if  her 


96  MARY   WARE 

sole  interest  in  life  was  testing  its  hardness.  Then 
she  spread  out  several  sheets  of  paraffine  paper  with 
a  great  show  of  indifference.  It  had  its  effect  on 
Elise,  and  she  promptly  changed  her  target  back  to 
A.O.  There  was  no  fun  in  teasing  when  her  ar- 
rows made  no  impression. 

Usually  A.  O.  enjoyed  it,  but  she  had  tangled  her- 
self in  a  web  of  her  own  weaving  lately,  and  for 
the  last  few  days  had  been  in  terror  lest  Elise  should 
find  her  out.  Inspired  by  the  picture  of  the  hand- 
some young  lieutenant  on  Elise's  desk,  and  not 
wanting  to  seem  behind  her  room-mate  in  roman- 
tic experiences,  silly  little  A.O.  had  drawn  on  her 
imagination  for  most  of  the  confidences  she  gave 
in  exchange.  When  Elise  talked  of  the  lieutenant, 
A.O.  talked  of  "  Jimmy,"  adding  this  trait  and  that 
grace  until  she  had  built  up  a  beautiful  ideal,  but 
a  being  so  different  from  the  original  on  which 
she  based  her  tales,  that  Jimmy  himself  would  never 
have  recognized  her  dashing  hero  as  the  bashful 
fellow  he  was  accustomed  to  confront  in  his 
mirror. 

He  had  carried  her  lunch  basket  when  they  went 
to  school  together,  he  had  patiently  worked  the 
sums  on  her  slate  with  his  big  clumsy  fingers  when 
she  cried  over  the  mysteries  of  subtraction.    Later, 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  97 

when  shy  and  overgrown,  and  too  bashful  to  speak 
his  admiration,  he  had  followed  her  around  at 
picnics  and  parties  with  a  dog-like  devotion  that 
touched  her.  He  had  sent  her  valentines  and 
Christmas  cards,  and  at  the  last  High  School  com- 
mencement when  the  graduating  exercises  marked 
the  parting  of  their  ways,  he  had  presented  her 
with  a  photograph  album  bound  in  celluloid,  with 
a  bunch  of  atrociously  gaudy  pansies  and  forget- 
me-nots  painted  thereon. 

In  matching  stories  with  Elise,  the  album  and  his 
awkwardness  and  his  plodding  embarrassed  speech 
somehow  slipped  into  the  background,  and  it  was 
his  devotion  and  his  chivalry  she  enlarged  upon. 
Elise,  impressed  by  her  hints  and  allusions,  believed 
in  the  idealized  Jimmy  as  thoroughly  as  A.O.  in- 
tended she  should. 

For  several  days  A.O.  had  been  in  a  quandary, 
for  her  mother's  last  letter  had  announced  a  clanger 
which  had  never  entered  her  thoughts  as  being  immi- 
nent. "  Jimmy  Woods  will  be  in  Washington  soon. 
He  is  going  up  with  his  uncle,  who  has  some  busi- 
ness at  the  patent  office.  I  have  given  him  a  note 
to  Madam  Chartley,  granting  him  my  permission 
to  call  on  you.  He  is  in  an  ag*ony  of  apprehension 
over  the  trip  to  Warwick  Hall.     He  is  so  afraid  of 


98  MARY  WARE 

meeting  strange  girls.  But  I  tell  him  it  will  be  good 
for  him.  It  is  really  amusing  to  see  how  interested 
everybody  in  town  is  over  Jimmy's  going.  Do  be 
kind  to  the  poor  fellow  for  the  sake  of  your  old 
childish  friendship,  no  matter  if  he  does  seem  a  bit 
countrified  and  odd.  He  is  a  dear  good  boy,  and 
it  would  never  do  to  let  him  feel  slighted  or  un- 
welcome." 

When  A.O.  read  that,  much  as  she  liked  Jimmy 
Woods,  she  wished  that  the  ground  would  open  and 
swallow  him  before  he  could  get  to  Washington,  or 
else  that  it  had  opened  and  swallowed  her  before  she 
drew  such  a  picture  of  him  for  Elise  to  admire. 
There  were  only  two  ways  out  of  the  dilemma  that 
she  could  see:  confession  or  a  persistent  refusal  to 
let  her  see  him.  She  must  not  even  be  allowed  to 
hang  over  the  banister  and  watch  him  pass  through 
the  hall,  as  she  had  proposed  doing. 

The  more  she  persisted  in  her  refusal  the  more 
determined  Elise  was  to  see  him.  A.O.  imagined 
she  could  feel  herself  growing  thin  and  pale  from 
so  much  lying  awake  of  nights  to  invent  some  ex- 
cuse to  circumvent  her.  If  she  only  knew  what  day 
Jimmy  was  to  be  in  Washington  she  could  arrange 
to  meet  him  there.  So  she  could  plan  a  trip  to  the 
dentist  with  Miss  Gilmer,  the  trained  nurse,  as 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  99 

chaperon.  She  wouldn't  have  minded  introducing 
him  to  Elise  if  she  had  never  painted  him  to  her 
in  such  glowing  colours  as  her  hero.  She  wished  she 
hadn't  told  her  it  was  Jimmy  who  was  coming.  She 
could  have  called  him  by  his  middle  name,  Gordon 
—  Mr.  Gordon,  and  passed  him  off  as  some  ordinary 
acquaintance  in  whom  Elise  could  have  no  possible 
interest. 

It  was  a  relief  when  Elise  turned  her  attention  to 
Mary's  affairs,  and  when  she  saw  that  her  turn  was 
coming  again,  she  set  her  teeth  together  grimly,  de- 
termined to  make  no  answer. 

Presently,  to  her  surprise,  Elise  relapsed  into 
silence,  and  stood  looking  out  of  the  window,  tap- 
ping on  the  kettle  with  her  spoon  in  a  preoccupied 
way.  Then  she  laughed  suddenly  as  if  she  saw 
something  funny,  and  being  questioned,  refused  to 
give  the  reason. 

"  I  just  thought  of  something,"  she  said,  laugh- 
ing again.  "  Something  too  funny  for  words.  I'll 
have  to  go  now,"  she  added,  as  if  the  cause  of  her 
mysterious  mirth  was  in  some  way  responsible  for 
her  departure. 

"  Thanks  mightily  for  the  candy,  Mary.  It's  the 
best  ever.  You're  going  to  be  overflowed  with  or- 
ders, I'm  sure.  Well,  farewell  friends  and  fellow 
citizens.    I'll  see  you  later." 


IOO  MARY   WARE 

"  What  do  you  supose  it  was  that  made  her  laugh 
so,"  asked  A.O.,  suspiciously.  "  There's  always 
some  mischief  brewing  when  she  acts  that  way.  I 
don't  dare  leave  her  by  herself  a  minute  for  fear 
she'll  plot  something  against  me.  I'll  have  to  be 
going,  too,  Mary." 

Left  to  herself,  Mary  began  washing  the  utensils 
she  had  used.  By  the  time  she  had  removed  every 
trace  of  her  candy-making,  the  confections  set  out 
on  the  window  sill  in  the  wintry  air  were  firm  and 
hard,  all  ready  to  be  wrapped  in  the  squares  of  paraf- 
fine  paper  and  packed  in  the  boxes  waiting  for  them. 
She  whistled  softly  as  she  drew  in  the  plates,  but 
stopped  with  a  start  when  she  realized  that  it  was 
Elise's  song  she  was  echoing : 

"  Amang  the  train  there  is  a  swain 
I  dearly  lo'e  mysel'." 

"  It  must  be  awfully  nice,"  she.  mused,  "  to  have 
somebody  as  devoted  to  you  as  the  Lieutenant  is  to 
Elise  and  Jimmy  is  to  A.O.  If  I  were  A.O.  I 
wouldn't  care  if  the  whole  school  came  down  to 
meet  him.  I'd  want  them  to  see  him.  I  made  up  my 
mind  at  Eugenia's  wedding  that  it  was  safer  to  be 
an  old  maid,  but  I'd  hate  to  be  one  without  ever 
having  had  an  '  affair  '  like  other  girls.     It  must  be 


THE  LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  ici 

lovely  to  be  called  the  Queen  of  He&:ts  like  Lloyd, 
and  to  have  such  a  train  of  admirers  z~  Mister  Rob 
and  Mister  Malcolm  and  Phil  and  all  fh*  others." 

There  was  a  wistful  look  in  the  gray  eyes  that 
peered  dreamily  out  of  the  window  into  the  gather- 
ing dusk  of  the  December  twilight.  But  it  was 
not  the  wintry  landscape  that  she  saw.  It  was  a  big 
boyish  figure,  cake-walking  in  the  little  Wigwam 
kitchen.  A  handsome  young  fellow  turning  in  the 
highroad  to  wave  his  hat  with  a  cheery  swing  to 
the  disconsolate  little  girl  who  was  flapping  a  fare- 
well to  him  with  her  old  white  sunbonnet.  And  then 
the  same  face,  older  grown,  smiling  at  her  through 
the  crowds  at  the  Lloydsboro  Valley  depot,  as  he 
came  to  her  with  outstretched  hands,  exclaiming, 
"Goodbye,  little  Vicar!  Think  of  the  Best  Man 
whenever  you  look  at  the  Philip  on  your  shilling." 

She  was  thinking  of  him  now  so  intently  that  she 
lost  count  of  the  pieces  she  had  packed  into  the 
box  she  was  filling  with  the  squares  of  sweets,  and 
had  to  empty  them  all  out  and  begin  again.  But  as 
she  recalled  other  scenes,  especially  the  time  she  had 
overheard  a  conversation  not  intended  for  her  about 
a  turquoise  he  was  offering  Lloyd,  she  said  to  her- 
self, "  He  is  for  Lloyd.  They  are  just  made  for 
each  other,  and  I  am  glad  that  the  nicest  man  I 


102  MARY   WARE 

ever  knew  happens  to  like  the  dearest  girl  in  the 
world.  And  I  hope  if  there  ever  should  be  '  a  swain 
amang  the  train '  for  me,  he'll  be  as  near  like  him 
as  possible.  I  don't  know  where  I'd  ever  mH  'him, 
though.  Certainly  not  here  and  most  positively  not 
in  Lone-Rock." 

"  Not  like  other  girls,"  she  laughed  presently,  re- 
calling the  title  of  the  book  Ethelinda  was  reading. 
"  That  fits  me  exactly.  No  Lieutenant,  no  Jimmy, 
and  no  birthstone  ring,  and  no  prospect  of  ever  hav- 
ing any.  But  I  don't  care  —  much.  The  candy  is 
a  success  and  Jack  is  going  to  have  his  bloodstone 
fob." 

With  her  arms  piled  full  of  boxes,  she  started 
down  to  her  room.  As  she  opened  the  door  a  burst 
of  music  came  floating  out  from  the  gymnasium 
where  the  carol-singers  were  practising  for  the 
yearly  service.  This  one  was  a  new  carol  to  her. 
She  did  not  know  the  words,  but  to  the  swinging 
measures  other  words  fitted  themselves;  some  lines 
which  she  had  read  that  morning  in  a  magazine. 
She  sang  them  softly  in  time  with  the  carol-singers 
as  she  went  on  down  the  stairs : 

"  For  should  he  come  not  by  the  road,  and  come  not  by  the  hill. 
And  come  not  by  the  far  sea  way,  yet  come  he  surely  will. 
Close  all  the  roads  of  all  the  world,  love's  road  is  open  stilV 


CHAPTER   VI 

JACK'S     WATCH  -  FOB 

Elise  spent  Saturday  and  Sunday  in  Washington 
with  the  Claiborne  family,  and  A.O.  almost  prayed 
that  Jimmy  would  make  his  visit  in  her  absence. 
On  her  return  she  had  so  much  to  tell  that  she  did 
not  mention  his  name,  and  A.O.  hoped  that  he  was 
forgotten.  All  Monday  afternoon  she  went  around 
in  a  flutter  of  nervousness,  "  feeling  in  her  bones  " 
that  Jimmy  would  be  there  that  night,  and  afraid 
that  Elise  would  find  some  way  in  which  to  carry 
out  her  threat  of  seeing  him  at  all  hazards.  One 
of  the  ways  she  had  suggested  trying,  was  to  sound 
a  burglar  or  a  fire  alarm,  so  that  every  one  would 
rush  out  into  the  hall.  But  when  the  dreaded  mo- 
ment actually  arrived  and  A.O.  stood  in  the  middle 
of  the  floor  with  his  card  in  her  hand,  Elise  merely 
looked  up  from  her  book  with  a  provoking  grin. 

"  Oh,  haven't  I  had  you  going  for  the  last  week !  " 

she  exclaimed.     "  Really  made  you  believe  that  I 

wanted  to  see  your  dear  Jimmy-boy!     A.O.,  you 

103 


104  MARY   WARE 

are  dead  easy!  I  haven't  had  so  much  fun  out  of 
anything  for  ages." 

Almost  giddy  with  the  sense  of  relief,  A.O.  hur- 
ried away,  leaving  Elise  poring  over  her  French 
lesson.  At  the  lower  landing  she  paused  to  tear 
Jimmy's  card  to  atoms  and  drop  them  in  a  waste 
basket  which  was  standing  there.  Even  his  card 
might  betray  him,  for  it  was  not  an  elegant  correct 
bit  of  engraved  board  like  the  Lieutenant's.  It  was 
a  large  square  card  inscribed  by  a  professional  pen- 
man ;  the  kind  who  sets  up  stands  on  street  corners 
or  in  convenient  doorways,  and  executes  showy 
scrolls  and  tendrils  in  the  way  of  initial  letters 
"  while  you  wait." 

As  the  door  closed  behind  A.O.,  Elise  sent  her 
book  flying  across  the  room,  and  the  next  moment 
was  groping  under  the  bed  for  a  dress-box  which 
she  had  hidden  there.  A  blond  wig  that  she  had 
bought  while  in  Washington  for  next  week's  tab- 
leaux tumbled  out  first,  with  a  motley  collection  of 
borrowed  articles,  which  she  had  been  at  great  pains 
to  procure. 

Laughing  so  that  she  could  hardly  dress,  Elise 
began  to  make  a  hurried  change.  Five  minutes  later 
she  stood  before  the  glass  completely  disguised. 
Cornie  Dean's  long  black  skirt  trailed  around  her. 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  105 

A.O.'s  own  jacket  fitted  her  snugly,  with  Margaret 
Elwood's  new  black  feather  boa,  which  had  just 
been  sent  her  from  home,  hiding  the  cut  of  its  famil- 
iar collar.  Jane  Ridgeway's  second  best  spectacles 
covered  her  mischievous  eyes,  and  a  black  veil  was 
draped  over  the  small  toque  and  blond  hair  in  suck 
a  way  that  its  broad  band  of  crape  hid  the  lowel 
part  of  her  face.  As  a  finishing  touch  a  piece  of 
gold-leaf,  pressed  over  part  of  an  upper  front  tooth, 
gave  the  effect  of  a  large  gold  filling,  whenever  she 
smiled. 

She  had  provided  herself  with  a  pair  of  black 
gloves,  but  at  the  last  moment  the  left-hand  glove 
could  not  be  found.  When  all  her  frantic  overturn- 
mgs  failed  to  bring  it  to  light,  she  gave  up  the 
search,  not  wanting  to  lose  any  more  valuable  time. 
The  little  flat  feather  muff  which  went  with  the  boa 
would  hide  the  fact  that  she  had  only  one  glove. 
Thrusting  her  bare  hand  into  it,  she  stopped  for 
only  one  thing  more,  a  black  bordered  card,  which 
bore  the  name  in  old  English  type,  Mrs.  Robertson 
Redmond.  It  was  one  which  had  been  sent  up  to 
her  by  one  of  her  mother's  friends,  who  called  at  the 
Claiborne's,  and  was  partly  responsible  for  this  dis' 
guise.  It  had  suggested  the  black  veil  with  the 
crape  border. 


106  MARY  WARS. 

Dodging  past  several  open  doors  she  reached  the 
south  corridor  in  safety  and  raising  the  window 
that  opened  on  a  back  court,  she  stepped  out  on  the 
fire  escape.  Cornie's  long  skirt  nearly  tripped  her, 
and  it  was  no  easy  matter  to  cling  to  the  rounds  of 
the  iron  ladder,  with  a  muff  in  one  hand  and  her 
skirts  constantly  wrapping  around  her.  Luckily  she 
had  only  one  flight  to  descend.  Stopping  a  moment 
to  smooth  her  ruffled  plumage  and  get  her  breath,, 
she  walked  around  to  the  front  of  the  house,  climbed 
the  steps,  and  boldly  lifted  the  great  knocker. 

It  was  a  dark,  cold  night,  and  the  sudden  appear- 
ance of  a  lady  on  the  doorstep,  so  far  from  the  sta- 
tion, astonished  the  footman  who  opened  the  door. 
He  had  heard  no  sound  of  wheels,  and  he  peered  out 
past  her,  expecting  to  see  some  manly  escort  emerge 
from  the  night.  None  came.  But  she  was  unmis- 
takably a  lady,  and  her  mourning  costume  seemed 
to  furnish  the  necessary  credentials.  When  she 
handed  him  a  black-bordered  card  and  asked  for 
Miss  Mary  Ware  of  Arizona,  with  an  air  of  calm 
assurance  and  with  the  broadest  of  English  ac- 
cents, he  bowed  obsequiously  and  ushered  her  into 
the  drawing  room. 

In  the  far  end  of  it  Herr  Vogelbaum  was  talking 
lustily  in  German  to  two  young  men,  evidently  fel- 


THE   LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  107 

low  musicians.  Otherwise  it  was  deserted,  except 
for  A.O.,  and  a  bashful,  overgrown  boy  of  seven- 
teen, who  sat  opposite  her  on  a  chair  far  too  low  for 
him.  It  gave  him  the  effect  of  sprawling,  and  he 
was  constantly  drawing  in  his  long  legs  and  thrust- 
ing them  out  again.  The  teacher  who  was  to  be 
drawing  room  chaperon  for  the  evening  had  not 
yet  come  down. 

The  lady  in  black  glided  into  the  room  with  the 
air  of  being  so  absorbed  in  her  own  affairs  that  she 
looked  upon  the  other  occupants  as  she  did  the  fur- 
niture. "  Without  even  a  direct  glance  at  the  young 
people  in  the  corner  she  swept  up  to  a  chair  within 
a  few  feet  of  them  and  sat  down  to  wait.  Jimmy, 
in  the  midst  of  some  tale  about  a  prank  that  the 
High  School  Invincibles  had  played  on  a  rival  base- 
ball team,  faltered,  grew  confused  and  finished  halt- 
ingly. For  all  her  spectacles  and  crape  the  golden 
haired  stranger  was  fascinatingly  young  and  pretty. 

A.O.  was  provoked  that  her  visitor  should  show 
to  such  disadvantage  even  before  this  unknown  lady 
who  apparently  was  taking  no  notice  of  them.  But 
when  he  paused  she  could  think  of  nothing  to  say 
herself  for  a  moment  or  two.  Then,  to  break  the 
silence  which  was  growing  painful,  she  plunged  into 
an   account  of  one  of  the  last  escapades  of  her 


108  MARY   WARE 

wicked  room-mate,  whom  she  pictured  as  a  most 
fascinating,  but  a  desperately  reckless  creature.  It 
was  funny,  the  way  she  told  it,  and  it  sent  Jimmy 
off  into  a  spasm  of  mirth.  But  she  would  almost 
rather  have  bitten  her  tongue  out  than  to  have 
caused  Jimmy  to  explode  in  that  wild  bray  of  a 
laugh.  He  slapped  his  knee  repeatedly,  and  doubled 
up  as  if  he  could  laugh  no  longer,  only  to  break 
out  in  a  second  bray,  louder  than  the  first.  It  made 
the  gentlemen  in  the  other  end  of  the  room  look 
around  inquiringly. 

A.O.  was  so  mortified  she  could  have  cried. 
Jimmy,  feeling  the  instant  change  in  her  manner, 
and  not  able  to  account  for  it,  grew  self  conscious 
and  ill  at  ease.  The  conversation  flagged,  and  pres- 
ently stopped  for  such  a  long  time  that  the  lady  in 
black  turned  a  slow  glance  in  their  direction. 

Meanwhile,  Mary  Ware,  up  in  the  Domestic 
Science  room,  was  anxiously  watching  a  kettle 
which  refused  to  come  to  the  proper  boiling  point, 
where  it  could  be  safely  left.  What  was  to  be  the 
last  batch  of  her  Christmas  candy  was  in  that  kettle, 
for  she  had  emptied  the  last  pound  of  Mexican 
sugar  into  it.  If  it  wasn't  cooked  exactly  right  it 
would  turn  to  sugar  again  when  it  was  cold,  and 
not  be  of  the  proper  consistency  to  hold  the  nuts 


THE   LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  log 

together.  She  did  not  know  what  effect  it  might 
have  on  the  mixture  to  set  it  off  the  fire  while  she 
went  down  to  receive  her  unknown  visitor,  and  then 
bring  it  to  the  boiling  point  again  after  it  had  once 
grown  cold.  She  was  afraid  to  run  any  risks.  If 
the  watch- fob  was  to  reach  Jack  on  time,  it  would 
have  to  be  started  on  its  way  in  a  few  days,  and  on 
the  success  of  this  last  lot  of  candy  depended  the 
getting  of  the  last  few  dollars  necessary  to  its  pur- 
chase. She  wished  that  she  had  ordered  more  of  the 
sugar  in  the  first  place.  There  wouldn't  be  time 
now.  She  had  twice  as  many  orders  as  she  had 
been  able  to  fill.  It  would  have  been  so  delightful  to 
have  gone  shopping  with  a  whole  pocket  full  of 
noney  which  she  had  earned  herself. 

She  looked  at  the  clock  and  then  back  again  at 
:he  black-bordered  card  on  the  table.  "  Mrs.  Rob- 
ertson Redmond."  She  had  never  heard  of  her. 
Burning  with  curiosity,  she  tried  to  imagine  what 
possible  motive  the  stranger  had  for  calling.  It  was 
unpardonable  that  a  mere  school-girl  should  keep  a 
lady  waiting  so  long;  a  lady  in  mourning,  too,  who 
since  she  could  not  be  making  social  calls,  must  have 
a  very  important  reason  for  coming.  Fidgeting 
with  impatience  she  bent  over  the  kettle,  testing  the 
hot  liquid  once  more  by  dropping  a  spoonful  into  a 


IIO  MARY   WARE 

i 

cup  of  cold  water.  Still  it  refused  to  harden.  Fi- 
nally with  a  despairing  sigh  she  slipped  off  her  apron 
and  turned  down  the  gas  so  low  that  only  a  thin 
blue  circle  of  flame  flickered  under  the  kettle.  "  In 
that  way  it  can't  boil  over  and  it  can't  get  cold,"  she 
thought.  Then  she  washed  her  hands  and  hurried 
down  to  the  drawing  room. 

Until  that  moment  she  had  forgotten  that  A.O. 
was  there  with  her  "  suitor,"  but  one  hasty  glance 
was  all  she  had  time  to  give  him.  The  tall  lady  in 
black  was  rising  from  her  chair,  was  trailing  for- 
ward to  meet  her,  was  exclaiming  in  that  low  full 
voice  which  had  so  impressed  the  footman.  "  Ah ! 
Joyce  Ware's  own  little  sister!  You've  probably 
never  heard  of  me,  dear,  but  I've  heard  of  you, 
often.  And  I  knew  that  Joyce  would  want  me  to 
take  back  some  message  direct  from  you,  so  I  just 
came  out  to-night  for  a  glimpse." 

Not  giving  the  bewildered  Mary  opportunity  to 
speak  a  word,  she  drew  her  to  a  seat  beside  her  and 
went  on  rapidly,  talking  about  Joyce  and  the  suc- 
cess she  was  making  in  New  York,  and  the  many 
friends  she  had  among  famous  people.  Mary  grew 
more  and  more  bewildered.  She  had  not  heard  that 
at  the  studio  receptions  which  Joyce  and  her  as- 
sociates in  the  flat  gave  fortnightly,  that  all  these 


TUB  LITTLE  COLONEL'S  CtiVU  111 

world-known  artists  and  singers  and  writers  were 
guests.  It  was  strange  Joyce  had  never  mentioned 
them.  But  Mrs.  Redmond  named  them  all  so  glibly 
and  familiarly,  that  she  could  not  doubt  her. 

Almost  petrified  at  seeing  Mary  walk  into  the 
room,  A.O.  had  relapsed  into  a  silence  which  she 
could  not  break.  Jimmy,  too,  sat  tongue-tied,  star- 
ing in  fascination  at  the  strange  blonde  lady  whose 
fluent,  softly  modulated  speech  seemed  to  exert  some 
kind  of  hypnotic  influence  over  him.  Even  through 
Mary's  absorbing  interest  in  Mrs.  Robertson  Red- 
mons's  tales,  came  the  consciousness  that  A.O.  and 
her  friend  were  sitting  there,  perfectly  dumb,  and 
she  stole  a  curious  glance  in  their  direction,  won- 
dering why. 

"  And  I  have  just  learned,"  said  Mrs.  Redmond, 
her  gold  tooth  gleaming  through  her  smile,  "  over- 
heard it,  in  fact,  quite  by  accident,  that  a  dear  little 
friend  of  mine  is  in  the  school  —  General  Walton's 
youngest  daughter,  Elise.  I  should  be  so  glad  to 
see  her  also  this  evening.  I  should  have  sent  up  a 
card  for  her,  too,  had  I  known.  Would  it  be  too 
much  trouble  for  you  to  send  word  to  her  now  ?  " 

A.O.  blushed  furiously,  knowing  full  well  how 
and  where  the  stranger  had  overheard  that  Elise 
was  in  the  school.   She  tried  frantically  to  recall  just 


112  MARY   WARE 

what  it  was  she  had  said  about  her,  in  her  endeavour 
to  amuse  Jimmy.  Something  extravagant,  she 
knew,  or  he  would  not  have  laughed  so  horribly- 
loud. 

As  Mary  rose  to  send  the  message  to  Elise  the 
lady  dropped  her  muff.  They  both  stooped  to  pick 
it  up.  Mary  was  first  to  reach  it,  and  as  she  gave 
it  back  two  things  met  her  astonished  gaze.  On  the 
little  finger  of  the  bare  hand  held  out  for  the  muff 
shone  the  agate  that  none  but  Maclntyres  had 
owned  since  the  days  of  Malcolm  the  Second.  And 
through  the  parted  lips,  where  an  instant  before  a 
gold-crowned  tooth  had  gleamed,  shone  only  perfect 
little  white  teeth,  with  not  a  glint  of  dentist's  handi- 
work about  them.    The  gold-leaf  had  slipped  off. 

Mary  gasped,  but  before  the  others  had  a  chance 
to  see  her  amazed  face,  the  lady  had  risen  and 
linked  her  arm  through  hers,  and  was  drawing  her 
towards  the  door,  saying.  "  Let  me  go  with  you. 
I  am  sure  that  Elise  will  not  mind  receiving  such  a 
very  old  friend  as  I  am  up  in  her  room." 

Although  the  lady  in  black  clung  to  her,  shaking 
hysterically  with  repressed  laughter,  behind  her 
crape-bordered  veil,  it  was  not  till  they  had  passed 
the  footman,  climbed  the  stairs  and  paused  at  Elise's 
door  that  Mary  was  sure  of  the  identity  of  her 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHx/M  113 

guest.  The  disguise  had  been  so  complete  that  she 
could  not  believe  the  evidence  of  her  own  eyes,  until 
the  blond  wig  was  torn  off  and  the  spectacles  laid 
aside.  Then  Elise  threw  herself  across  her  bed, 
laughing  until  she  gasped  for  breath.  Her  mirth 
was  so  contagious  that  Mary  joined  in,  laughing 
also  until  she  was  weak  and  breathless,  and  could 
only  cling  to  the  bedpost,  wiping  her  eyes. 

"  And  wasn't  Jimmy  a  whole  menagerie !  "  Elise 
exclaimed  as  soon  as  she  could  speak.  "  You  should 
have  been  there  to  have  heard  him  howl  and  tear 
his  hair  at  something  A.O.  told  him  about  me.  And 
I  sat  there  with  a  perfectly  straight  face  through  the 
whole  of  it,  while  she  made  up  dreadful  things  about 
me.  I'm  going  away  off  in  the  pasture  to-morrow 
and  practise  that  bra}r  all  by  myself  till  I  can  do  it 
to  perfection.  Then  when  A.O.  begins  to  sing  his 
praises  again,  I  won't  say  a  word.  I'll  just  give 
her  Jimmy's  laugh.  Won't  she  be  astonished? 
She's  bound  to  recognize  it,  for  it's  the  only  one 
of  its  kind  in  the  world.  I  shall  keep  her  guessing 
until  after  Christmas,  where  I  heard  it." 

"  Don't  you  tell  her  till  then !  "  she  exclaimed,  sit- 
ting up  on  the  side  of  the  bed.  "  She  would  be  so 
furious  she  wouldn't  speak  to  me.  But  after  the 
holidays,  it  won't  be  so  fresh  in  her  mind.  Promise 
you  won't  tell  her." 


114  MARY  WARE 

Still  laughing,  Mary  promised,  and  Elise  began 
to  gather  up  the  various  articles  of  her  disguise, 
saying,  "  It  was  worth  a  five-pound  box  of  choco- 
lates to  hear  her  describe  me  as  a  reckless  scape- 
grace in  that  sorority  racket  we  had." 

The  mention  of  candy  had  the  effect  of  an  electric 
shock  on  Mary.  "  Mercy !  "  she  cried.  "  I  forgot 
all  about  that  stuff  I  left  upstairs." 

Instantly  sobered,  she  hurried  away  to  its  rescue. 
She  had  intended  to  go  down  only  long  enough  to 
discover  the  caller's  errand,  and  then  excuse  her- 
self until  the  candy  could  be  safely  left.  But  more 
than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  had  gone  by.  Somewhere 
about  the  premises,  and  for  some  reason  unknown 
to  her,  a  greater  pressure  of  gas  had  been  turned  on, 
and  the  thin  blue  flame  under  the  kettle  had  shot  up 
to  a  full  blazing  ring.  A  smell  of  burnt  Sugar 
greeted  her  as  she  opened  the  door.  There  was  no 
need  to  look  into  the  kettle.  She  knew  before  she 
did  so  that  the  candy  was  burnt  black,  and  Jack's 
fob  no  longer  attainable. 

Her  first  impulse  was  to  run  to  Betty  for  comfort. 
It  would  be  easy  enough  to  borrow  the  money  she 
needed  from  her,  and  pay  her  back  after  the  holi- 
days, but  —  a  sober  second  thought  stopped  her. 
Probably  the  girls  wouldn't  want  her  candy  then, 


THE  LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  115 

Each  of  the  boxes  had  been  ordered  as  a  special 
Christmas  offering  for  some  relative  with  a  well- 
known  sweet  tooth.  And  Mary  had  a  horror  of 
debt,  that  was  part  of  her  heritage  from  her  grand- 
father Ware.  It  was  his  frequent  remark  that  "  who 
goes  a-borrowing  goes  a-sorrowing,"  and  it  lay 
heavy  on  the  conscience  of  every  descendant  of  his 
who  stepped  aside  even  for  a  moment  from  the 
path  of  his  teachings.  She  felt  that  it  would  be  dis- 
honest to  send  Jack  a  present  that  wasn't  fully  paid 
for,  and  yet  the  disappointment  of  not  being  able  to 
send  it  was  so  deep,  that  she  could  not  keep  the  tears 
back.  They  splashed  down  like  rain  into  the  kettle 
as  she  scraped  away  at  the  scorched  places  on  the 
bottom. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  she  went  back  to  her 
room.     Ethelinda  looked  up  curiously. 

"  Where's  your  candy?  "  she  asked. 

"  Spoiled.  It  scorched  and  I  had  to  throw  it 
out."  Her  face  was  turned  away,  under  pretence 
of  searching  for  a  book,  but  her  voice  was  subdued 
and  not  altogether  steady. 

"  Too  bad,"  was  the  indifferent  answer,  and 
Ethelinda  went  on  with  her  lesson,  but  presently  a 
faint  sniff  made  her  glance  up  to  see  that  Mary  was 
not  studying,  only  staring  at  her  book  with  big 


Il6  '    MARY   WARE 

tears  dropping  quietly  on  the  page.  In  all  the  weeks 
they  had  been  together  she  had  never  seen  Mary  in 
this  mood  before,  and  it  seemed  as  strange  that  she 
should  be  crying  as  that  rain  should  drop  from  a 
cloudless  sky. 

The  sight  of  Mary  in  trouble  awakened  a  feeling 
that  seldom  came  to  the  surface  in  Ethelinda.  She 
felt  moved  to  pick  her  up  and  comfort  her  and  put 
her  out  of  harm's  way  as  she  would  have  done  to  a 
helpless  little  kitten.  But  she  did  not  know  how  to 
begin.  Naturally  undemonstrative,  any  expression 
of  sympathy  was  hard  for  her  to  make.  They  had 
grown  into  very  friendly  relations  this  last  month. 
Warwick  Hall  had  widened  Ethelinda's  horizon,  un- 
til she  was  able  to  take  an  interest  in  many  things 
now  outside  of  her  own  narrow  self-centred  circle. 

As  they  started  to  undress  she  managed  to  ask, 
"  Well,  have  you  sent  for  that  watch-fob  yet  ?  " 

Mary  shook  her  head,  trying  hard  to  swallow  a 
sob,  as  she  bent  over  an  open  bureau  drawer.  "  I've 
decided  not  to  order  it." 

Then  Ethelinda,  putting  two  and  two  together, 
guessed  the  reason.  If  Mary  could  have  known 
how  long  she  lay  awake  that  night,  devising  some 
scheme  to  help  her  out  of  her  difficulty,  she  would 
not  have  been  so  surprised  next  morning  when  a 


THE  LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  117 

hesitating  voice  spoke  up  from  the  opposite  bed, 
just  after  the  rising  bell. 

"  Mary,  will  you  promise  not  to  get  mad  and 
throw  things  at  me  if  I  ask  you  something?  "  She 
went  on  hurriedly,  for  they  both  recalled  a  scene 
when  such  a  thing  had  happened.  She  felt  she  had 
blundered  by  alluding  to  it. 

"  I  wouldn't  dare  ask  it  at  all  if  I  didn't  know 
that  you  had  failed  with  your  candy,  and  might 
want  to  raise  your  Christmas  funds  some  other  way. 
No,  I  guess  I'd  better  not  ask  you,  after  all.  It 
might  make  you  furious." 

Mary  sat  up  in  bed,  not  only  curious  to  know 
what  it  is  Ethelinda  was  afraid  to  ask,  but  wonder- 
ing at  her  hesitancy.  Heretofore  she  had  stopped 
at  nothing;  the  most  cutting  allusions  to  Mary's  ap- 
pearance, behaviour  and  friends.  They  had  both 
been  appallingly  frank  at  times.  Their  growing 
friendship  seemed  to  thrive  on  this  outspokenness. 

"  Oh,  go  on !  "  begged  Mary.  "  I'd  rather  you'd 
make  me  furious  than  to  keep  me  so  curious,  and 
I'll  give  you  my  word  of  honour  I  won't  get  mad." 

"  Well,  then,"  began  Ethelinda,  slowly,  "  you 
know  I  had  such  a  cold  last  week  when  the  hair- 
dresser came,  that  I  couldn't  have  my  usual  sham- 
poo,  and   she  always  charges   a  dollar  when   she 


II 8  MARY   WARE 

makes  an  extra  trip  just  for  one  head.  She 
wouldn't  come  this  week  anyhow,  no  matter  how 
much  I  paid  her,  because  she  is  so  busy,  and  I  simply 
must  have  my  hair  washed  before  the  night  of  the 
tableaux.  So  I  thought  —  if  you  didn't  mind  doing 
a  thing  like  that  —  for  me  —  you  might  as  well 
have  the  dollar." 

There  was  a  pause.  A  long  one.  Ethelinda  knew 
that  Mary  was  recalling  her  speech  about  a  lady's 
maid,  and  felt  that  the  silence,  so  long  and  oppress- 
ive, was  ominous.  If  she  had  asked  it  as  a  favour, 
Mary  would  not  have  hesitated  an  instant.  The 
other  girls  often  played  barber  for  each  other,  mak- 
ing a  frolic  out  of  the  affair.  But  for  Ethelinda, 
and  for  money!  That  made  a  menial  task  of  it,  and 
her  pride  rose  up  in  arms  at  the  thought. 

"  Now  you  are  mad!  I  knew  you'd  be!  "  came 
in  anxious  tones  from  the  other  bed.  "  I  wish  I 
had  kept  my  mouth  shut." 

"  No,  I'm  not,"  asserted  Mary,  stoutly.  "  I'm 
making  up  my  mind.  I  was  just  thinking  that  you 
wouldn't  do  it  if  you  were  in  my  place,  and  I 
wouldn't  do  it  to  keep  myself  from  starving,  if  it 
were  just  for  myself,  but  it's  for  Jack.  I'd  get  down 
and  black  the  shoes  of  my  worst  enemy  for  Jack, 
and  under  the  circumstances,  I'm  very  glad  to  accept 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  1 19 

your  offer,  and  I  think  it  is  very  sweet  of  you  to 
give  me  such  a  chance.  You  shall  have  the  best 
shampoo  in  my  power  to  give  as  soon  as  you  are 
ready  for  it." 

Later,  she  paused  in  her  dressing,  thinking  maybe 
she  had  not  been  gracious  enough  in  expressing  her 
appreciation,  and  said  emphatically,  "  Ethelinda, 
that  was  awfully  good  of  you  to  think  of  a  way  to 
help  me  out  of  my  difficulty.  Last  night  I  was  so 
down  in  the  dumps,  and  so  disappointed  over  Jack's 
Christmas  present,  that  I  thought  I  never  could 
smile  again.  But  now  I'm  so  sure  it  is  coming  out 
all  right  that  I  am  as  light-hearted  as  a  bit  of  thistle- 
down." 

Ethelinda  made  some  trivial  reply,  but  imme- 
diately began  to  hum  in  a  happy  undertone.  She 
was  feeling  surprisingly  light-hearted  herself.  The 
role  of  benefactor  was  an  unusual  one,  and  she  en- 
joyed the  sensation. 

For  all  her  appreciative  speeches,  Mary  ap- 
proached her  task  that  afternoon  with  inward  re- 
luctance. Only  a  grim  determination  to  do  her  best 
to  earn  that  dollar  was  her  motive  at  first,  and  she 
helped  herself  by  imagining  it  was  the  Princess 
Winsome's  sunny  hair  which  she  was  lathering  and 
rubbing  so  vigorously.     Ethelinda  closed  her  eyes, 


120  MARY   WARE 

enjoying  the  touch  of  the  light  fingers,  and  wishing 
the  operation  could  be  prolonged  indefinitely. 
Somehow  this  intimate,  personal  contact  seemed  to 
create  a  friendliness  for  each  other  they  had  never 
known  before.  Presently  Mary  was  chatting  away 
almost  as  cordially  as  if  it  were  Elise's  dusky  curls 
she  had  in  her  fingers,  or  A.O.'s  brown  braids. 

Under  promise  of  secrecy  she  told  of  Elise's  mas- 
querade the  ni^ht  before,  and  of  A.O.'s  wild  curios- 
ity about  the  lady  in  black.  She  had  persecuted 
them  all  morning  with  questions,  and  they  were  al- 
most worn  out  trying  to  evade  them  and  to  baffle 
her.  Ethelinda  appreciated  being  taken  into  her 
confidence,  for  she  had  been  more  lonely  than  her 
pride  would  allow  her  to  admit.  Her  patronizing 
airs  and  ill-guarded  speech  about  being  exclusive 
in  the  choice  of  friends  had  offended  most  of  the 
lower-class  girls.  Slowly  she  was  learning  •  that 
her  old  standards  would  not  bear  comparison  with 
Madam  Chartley's  and  the  Lady  Evelyn's  and  that 
she  must  accept  theirs  if  she  would  have  any  friends 
at  Warwick  Hall.  Her  friendship  with  Mary  took 
a  long  stride  forward  that  afternoon. 

The  rest  of  the  money  came  in  various  ways. 
Mary  found  appropriate  quotations  for  a  set  of 
unique  dinner  cards,  to  fit  the  pen  and  ink  illustra* 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  121 

tions  which  one  of  the  Seniors  bought  to  give  her 
sister,  a  prominent  club-woman,  whose  turn  it  was  to 
give  the  yearly  club  dinner.  She  did  some  indexing 
for  the  librarian  and  some  copying  for  Miss  Chil- 
ton, and  by  the  end  of  the  week  not  only  was  Jack's 
fob  on  its  way  to  Arizona,  with  presents  for  the 
rest  of  the  family,  but  there  was  enough  left  in  her 
purse  to  pay  her  share  towards  the  mock  Christmas 
tree. 

It  gave  her  a  thrill  to  think  that  out  of  the  entire 
school  she  had  been  chosen  as  one  of  the  commit- 
tee of  nine  for  the  delightful  task  of  tying  up  the 
parcels  for  that  tree.  It  was  such  bliss  to  share  all 
the  secrets  and  anticipate  the  surprise  and  laughter 
each  ridiculous  gift  would  call  forth.  And  when 
all  the  joking  and  rollicking  was  over  there  was  the 
carol  service  on  the  last  night  of  the  term,  so  sweet 
and  solemn  and  full  of  the  real  Christmas  gladness, 
that  it  was  something  to  remember  always  as  the 
crowning  beauty  of  that  beautiful  time. 

Old  Bishop  Chartley  came  down  as  usual  for  the 
service,  and  the  chapel,  fragrant  with  pine  and  spicy 
cedar  boughs  and  lighted  only  by  tall  white  candles, 
was  just  as  Lloyd  had  described  it,  when  she  told 
of  the  Bishop's  talk  about  keeping  the  White  Feast 
on  the  birthday  of  the  King.    When  the  great  doors 


121  MARY  WARE 

swung  wide  for  the  white-robed  choir  to  enter,  Mary 
knew  that  it  was  only  the  Dardell  twins  leading  in 
the  processional  with  flute  and  cornet.  But  as  they 
came  slowly  up  the  dim  aisle  under  the  arches  of 
Christmas  greens,  their  wide,  flowing  sleeves  falling 
back  from  their  arms,  they  made  her  think  of  two 
of  Fra  Angelico's  trumpet-blowing  angels,  and  she 
clasped  her  hands  with  a  quick  indrawing  of  breath. 
The  high  silvery  flute  notes  and  the  mellow  alto  of 
the  deep  horn  were  like  the  voices  of  the  Seraphim, 
leading  all  the  others  in  their  pean  of  "  Glad  tid- 
ings of  great  joy."  Oh,  it  was  good  to  be  at  a 
school  like  this  she  thought  with  a  throb  of  deep 
thankfulness.  And  it  was  so  good  to  know  that  all 
her  plans  had  worked  out  happily,  and  her  Christ- 
mas gifts  for  the  girls  were  just  what  she  wanted 
them  to  be.  Her  thoughts  strayed  awray  from  the 
service  a  moment  to  recall  the  little  bundles  she  had 
hidden  in  Elise's  and  A.O.'s  suit-cases,  and  the 
package  she  had  ready  for  Ethelinda,  a  prettily  scal- 
loped linen  cover  for  her  dressing-table  with  her 
initials,  worked  in  handsome  block  letters  in  the 
centre. 

No  regrets  clouded  her  face  next  morning,  when 
she  stood  at  the  door,  watching  the  last  'bus  load  of 
merry  girls  start  home  for  the  holidays.     She  was 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  123 

not  going  home  herself.  Arizona  was  too  far  away. 
But  she  had  something  more  thrilling  than  that  in 
prospect  —  a  visit  to  Joyce  in  New  York,  she  and 
Betty,  and  Christmas  day  with  Eugenia,  at  the 
beautiful  Tremont  home  out  on  the  Hudson.  She 
had  been  hearing  about  it  for  the  last  two  years. 
And  there  was  Eugenia's  baby  she  was  eager  to  see, 
the  mischievous  little  year-old  Patricia,  "  as  beauti- 
ful as  her  father  and  as  bad  as  her  naughty  Uncle 
Phil,"  Eugenia  had  written,  in  her  letter  of  invita- 
tion. 

And  Phil  himself  would  be  there,  —  maybe.  He 
was  trying  to  get  his  work  in  shape  so  that  he  could 
be  home  at  Christmas  time.  Mary  did  not  realize 
how  much  her  anticipations  of  this  visit  were  tinged 
by  the  glow  of  that  maybe.  Her  thoughts  ran  ahead 
lo  that  day  at  Eugenia's  oftener  than  to  any  other 
part  of  the  grand  outing.  There  was  to  be  a  whole 
week  of  sight-seeing  in  New  York  sandwiched  in 
between  the  cozy  hours  at  home  with  Joyce  in  her 
studio,  and  then  on  the  roundabout  way  back  to 
school  a  stop-over  at  Annapolis,  for  a  few  hours 
with  Holland. 

Filled  with  such  an  ineffable  spirit  of  content  that 
she  would  not  have  exchanged  places  with  any  one 
in  the  whole  world,  she  watched  the  last  'bus  load 


124  MARY   WARE 

drive  away,  waving  their  handkerchiefs  all  down  the 
avenue,  and  singing: 

"  O  Warwick  Hall,  dear  Warwick  Hall, 
The  joys  of  Yule  now  homeward  call. 
Yet  still  we'll  keep  the  tryst  with  you, 
Though  for  a  time  we  say  adieu. 
Adieu !     Adieu  ! " 


THE     GIRLISH     FIGURE     ENVELOPED     IN    A     LONG     LOOSE     WORKING 

APRON." 


CHAPTER    VII 
in  Joyce's  studio 

The  short  winter  day  was  almost  at  an  end. 
High  up  in  the  top  flat  of  a  New  York  apartment 
house,  Joyce  Ware  sat  in  her  studio,  making  the 
most  of  those  last  few  moments  of  daylight.  In  the 
downstairs  flats  the  electric  lights  were  already  on. 
She  moved  her  easel  nearer  the  window,  thankful 
that  no  sky-scraper  loomed  between  it  and  the  fading 
sunset,  for  she  needed  a  full  half  hour  to  complete 
her  work. 

There  were  a  number  of  good  pictures  on  the 
walls,  among  them  some  really  fine  old  Dutch  in- 
teriors, but  any  artist  would  have  turned  from  the 
best  of  them  to  study  the  picture  silhouetted  against 
the  western  window.  The  girlish  figure  enveloped 
in  a  long  loose  working  apron  was  all  in  shadow,  but 
the  light,  slanting  across  the  graceful  head  bending 
towards  the  easel,  touched  the  brown  hair  with 
glints  of  gold,  and  gave  the  profile  of  the  earnest 
young  face,  the  distinctive  effect  of  a  Rembrandt 
portrait. 

125 


126  MARY   WARE 

Wholly  unconscious  of  the  fact,  Joyce  plied  her 
brush  with  capable  practised  ringers,  so  absorbed  in 
her  task  that  she  heard  nothing  of  the  clang  and  roar 
of  the  streets  below,  seething  with  holiday  traffic. 
The  elevator  opposite  her  door  buzzed  up  and  down 
unheeded.  She  did  not  even  notice  when  it  stopped 
on  her  floor,  and  some  one  walked  across  the  cor- 
ridor with  a  heavy  tread.  But  the  whirr  of  her  door 
bell  brought  her  to  herself  with  a  start,  and  she 
looked  up  impatiently,  half  inclined  to  pay  no  atten- 
tion to  the  interruption.  Then  thinking  it  might  be 
some  business  message  which  she  could  not  afford 
to  delay,  she  hurried  to  the  door,  brush  and  palette 
still  in  hand. 

"Why,  Phil  Tremont!"  she  exclaimed,  so  sur- 
prised at  sight  of  the  tall  young  man  who  filled  the 
door- way  that  she  stood  for  an  instant  in  open- 
mouthed  wonder.  "  Where  did  you  drop  from  ?  I 
thought  you  were  in  the  wilds  of  Oregon  or  some 
such  borderland.     Come  in." 

"  I  got  in  only  a  few  hours  ago,"  he  answered,  fol- 
lowing her  down  the  hall  and  into  the  studio.  "  I 
have  only  been  in  town  long  enough  to  make  my 
report  at  the  office.  I'm  on  my  way  out  to  Stuart's 
to  spend  Christmas  with  him  and  Eugenia,  but  I 
couldn't  resist  the  temptation   of   staying  over  a 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  1 27 

train  to  run  in  and  take  a  peep  at  you.  It  has  been 
nearly  six  months,  you  know,  since  I've  had  such  a 
chance." 

Joyce  went  back  to  her  easel,  as  he  slipped  off  his 
overcoat.  "  Don't  think  that  because  I  keep  on  work- 
ing that  I'm  not  delighted  to  see  you,  but  my  orders 
are  like  time  and  tide.  They  wait  for  no  man. 
This  must  be  finished  and  out  of  the  house  to-night, 
and  I've  not  more  than  fifteen  minutes  of  good  day- 
light left.  So  just  look  around  and  make  yourself 
at  home  and  take  my  hospitable  will  for  the  deed 
till  I  get  through.  In  the  meantime  you  can  be 
telling  me  all  about  yourself." 

"  There's  precious  little  to  tell,  no  adventures  of 
any  kind  —  just  the  plain  routine  of  business.  But 
you've  had  changes,"  he  added,  looking  around  the 
room  with  keen  interest.  "  This  isn't  much  like  the 
bare  barn  of  a  place  I  saw  you  in  last.  You  must 
have  struck  oil.     Have  you  taken  a  partner  ?  " 

"  Several  of  them,"  she  replied,  "  although  I  don't 
know  whether  they  should  be  called  partners  or 
boarders  or  adopted  waifs.  They  are  all  three  of 
these  things  in  a  way.  It  began  with  two  people 
who  sat  at  the  same  table  with  me  those  first  mis- 
erable months  when  I  was  boarding.  One  was  a 
little  cheerful  wren  of  a  woman  from  a  little  West- 


128  MARY   WARE 

ern  town,  a  Mrs.  Boyd.  That  is,  she  is  cheerful 
now.  Then  she  was  like  a  bird  in  a  cage,  pining  to 
death  for  the  freedom  she  had  been  accustomed  to, 
and  moping  on  her  perch.  She  came  to  New  York 
to  bring  her  niece,  Lucy,  who  is  all  she  has  to  live 
for.  Some  art  teacher  back  home  told  her  that  Lucy 
is  a  genius  —  has  the  makings  of  a  great  artist  in 
her,  and  they  believed  it.  She'll  never  get  beyond 
fruit-pieces  and  maybe  a  dab  at  china-painting,  but 
she's  happy  in  the  hope  that  she'll  be  a  world-wonder 
some  day.  Neither  of  them  have  a  practical  bone  in 
their  body,  whereas  I  have  always  been  a  sort  of 
Robinson  Crusoe  at  furnishing  up  desert  islands. 

"  So  I  proposed  to  these  two  castaways  that  we  go 
in  together  and  make  a  home  to  suit  ourselves.  We 
were  so  dead  tired  of  boarding.  About  that  time 
we  picked  up  Henry,  and  as  Henry  has  a  noble  bank 
account  we  went  into  the  project  on  a  more  lavish 
scale  than  we  could  have  done  otherwise." 

"  Henry  I  "  ejaculated  Phil,  who  was  watching  the 
silhouette  against  the  window  with  evident  pleasure. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Henrietta  Robbins,  a  bachelor  maid 
of  some  —  well,  I  won't  tell  how  many  summers,  but 
she's  '  past  the  freakish  bounds  of  youth,'  and  a  real 
artist.  She's  studied  abroad,  and  she's  done  things 
worth  while.    That  group  of  fishermen  on  the  Nor- 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  129 

mandy  coast  is  hers,"  nodding  towards  the  opposite 
wall,  "  and  that  old  woman  peeling  apples,  and  those 
three  portraits.  Oh,  she's  the  real  thing,  and  a  con- 
stant inspiration  to  me.  And  she's  brought  so  much 
towards  the  beautifying  of  our  Crusoe  castle:  all 
these  elegant  Persian  rugs,  and  those  four  "  old 
masters,"  and  the  bronzes  and  the  teakwood  carvings 
—  you  can  see  for  yourself.  Lucy  wasn't  quite  sat- 
isfied with  the  room  at  first.  She  missed  the  fish-net 
draperies  and  cozy  corners  and  the  usual  clap-trap 
of  amateur  studios.  But  she's  educated  up  to  it  now, 
and  it's  a  daily  joy  to  me.  On  the  other  hand  my 
broiled  steaks  and  feather-weight  waffles  and  first- 
class  coffee  are  a  joy  to  poor  Henry,  who  can't  even 
boil  an  egg  properly,  and  who  hasn't  the  first  instinct 
of  home-making." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  do  the  cooking 
for  this  happy  family !  " 

Joyce  laughed  at  his  surprised  tone.  "  That's 
what  makes  it  a  happy  family.  No  domestic  service 
problems.  With  a  gas  range,  a  fireless  cooker  and 
all  the  conveniences  of  our  little  kitchenette,  it's 
mere  play  after  my  Wigwam  experiences.  We  have 
a  woman  come  several  times  a  week  to  clean  and  do 
extras,  so  I  don't  get  more  exercise  than  I  need  to 
keep  me  in  good  condition." 


130  MARY   WARE 

"  But  doesn't  all  this  devotion  to  the  useful  inter- 
fere with  your  pursuit  of  the  beautiful  ?  Where  do 
you  find  time  for  your  art  ?  " 

"  Oh,  my  art  is  all  useful,"  sighed  Joyce.  "  I 
used  to  dream  of  great  things  to  come,  but  I've  come 
down  to  earth  now  —  practical  designing.  Maga- 
zine covers  and  book  plates  and  illustrating.  I  can 
do  things  like  that  and  it  is  work  I  love,  and  work 
that  pays.  Of  course  I'd  rather  do  Madonnas  than 
posters,  but  since  the  pot  must  boil  I  am  glad  there 
are  book-covers  to  be  done.  And  some  day  —  well, 
I  may  not  always  have  to  stay  tied  to  the  earth.  My 
wings  are  growing,  in  the  shape  of  a  callow  bank 
account.  When  it  is  full-fledged,  then  I  shall  take 
to  my  dreams  again.  Already  Henry  and  I  are 
talking  of  a  flight  abroad  together,  to  study  and 
paint.  In  two  years  more  I  can  make  it,  if  all  goes 
well." 

The  striking  of  a  clock  made  her  glance  up,  ex- 
claiming over  the  lateness  of  the  hour.  "  Phil,"  she 
asked,  "  would  you  mind  telephoning  down  to  the 
station  to  find  out  if  that  Washington  train  is  on 
time  ?  That's  a  good  boy.  That  little  sister  of  mine 
will  think  the  sky  has  fallen  if  I'm  not  at  the  station 
to  meet  her." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  tell  me  that  Mary  is  on  her 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  iji 

way  here,''  exclaimed  Phil,  as  he  rose  to  do  her  bid- 
ding. "  Then  I  certainly  have  something  to  live  for. 
Her  first  impressions  of  New  York  will  be  worth 
hearing."  He  scanned  the  pages  of  the  telephone 
directory  for  the  number  he  wanted. 

"  Yes,  she  and  Betty  are  to  spend  their  vacation 
with  me.  We  are  going  out  to  Eugenia's  to-morrow 
afternoon  to  spend  Christmas  eve  and  part  of  Christ- 
mas day." 

"  Then  that  was  the  surprise  that  Eugenia  wrote 
about,"  said  Phil,  taking  out  his  watch.  "  She 
wouldn't  tell  what  it  was,  but  said  that  it  would  be 
worth  my  while  to  come.  Yes,  the  train  is  on 
time." 

He  hung  up  the  receiver.  "  I  won't  be  able  to 
wait  for  it,  if  I  get  out  to  Eugenia's  for  dinner,  but 
I  can  see  you  safely  to  the  station  on  my  way.  It 
is  about  time  we  were  starting  if  you  expect  to  reach 
it." 

Joyce  made  a  final  dab  at  her  picture,  dropped  the 
brush  and  hurried  into  the  next  room  for  her  wraps. 
It  seemed  to  Phil  that  he  had  scarcely  turned  around 
till  she  was  back  again,  hatted  and  gloved.  The 
artist  in  the  long  apron  had  given  place  to  a  stylish 
tailor-made  girl  in  a  brown  street-suit.  Phil  looked 
down  at  her  approvingly  as  they  stepped  out  into  the 
wintry  air  together. 


17,2  MARY   WARE 

The  great  show  windows  were  ablaze  with  lights 
by  this  time,  and  the  rush  of  the  crowds  almost  took 
her  off  her  feet.  Phil  at  her  elbow  piloted  her  along 
to  a  corner  where  they  were  to  take  a  car. 

"  I'm  glad  that  I  happened  along  to  take  you 
under  my  wing,"  he  said.  "  You  ought  not  to  be 
out  alone  on  the  streets  at  night." 

"  It  isn't  six  o'clock  yet,"  she  answered.  "  And 
this  is  the  first  time  that  I  had  no  escort  arranged 
for.  Mrs.  Boyd  always  comes  with  me.  She's  little 
and  meek,  but  her  white  hair  counts  for  a  lot.  She 
would  have  gone  to  the  station  with  me,  but  she  and 
Lucy  are  dining  out.  We  girls  will  be  all  alone  to- 
night. I  wish  they  were  not  expecting  you  out  at 
Eugenia's  to  dinner.  I'd  take  you  back  with  me. 
I  have  prepared  quite  a  company  spread,  things  that 
you  especially  like." 

"  There's  a  telephone  out  to  the  place,"  he  sug- 
gested. "  I  could  easily  let  them  know  if  I  missed 
my  train,  and  I  could  easily  miss  it  —  if  my  invita- 
tion were  pressing  enough." 

"  Then  do  miss  it"  she  insisted,  smiling  up  at  him 
so  cordially  that  he  laughed  and  said  in  a  com- 
placent tone,  "  We'll  consider  it  done.  I'll  telephone 
Eugenia  from  the  station,  that  I'll  not  be  out  till 
morning.     Really,"  he  added  a  moment  later,  "  it 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  133 

will  be  more  like  a  sure-enough  home-coming  to 
come  back  to  you  and  that  little  chatterbox  of  a 
Mary  than  to  go  out  to  my  brother's.  Eugenia  is 
a  dear,  but  I've  never  known  her  except  as  a  bride 
or  a  dignified  young  matron,  so  of  course  we  have 
no  youthful  experiences  in  common  to  hark  back  to 
together.  That  is  the  very  back-bone  of  a  family 
reunion  in  my  opinion.  Now  that  year  in  Arizona, 
when  you  all  took  me  in  as  one  of  yourselves,  is 
about  all  that  I  can  remember  of  real  home-life,  and 
somehow,  when  I  think  of  home,  it  is  the  Wigwam 
that  I  see,  and  the  good  cheer  and  the  jolly  times 
that  I  always  found  there." 

Joyce  looked  up  again,  touched  and  pleased. 
"  I'm  so  glad  that  you  feel  that  way,  for  we  always 
count  you  in,  right  after  Jack  and  the  little  boys. 
Mamma  always  speaks  of  you  as  '  my  other  '  boy, 
and  as  for  Mary,  she  quotes  you  on  all  occasions, 
and  thinks  you  are  very  near  perfection.  She  is 
going  to  be  so  delighted  when  she  sees  you,  that  I'd 
not  be  a  bit  surprised  if  she  should  jump  up  and 
down  and  squeal,  right  in  the  station." 

The  mention  of  this  old  habit  of  Mary's  brought 
up  to  each  of  them  the  mental  picture  of  the  child, 
as  she  had  looked  on  various  occasions  when  her 
unbounded  pleasure  was  forced  to  find  expression 


134  MARY   WARE 

in  that  way.  In  the  year  that  Joyce  had  been  away 
from  her  she  had  been  in  her  thoughts  oftener  as 
that  quaint  little  creature  of  eight,  than  the  sixteen- 
3^ear  old  school  girl  she  had  grown  into. 

Phil,  too,  accustomed  to  thinking  of  Mary  as  he 
had  known  her  at  the  Wigwam,  could  hardly  believe 
he  saw  aright,  when  the  train  pulled  in  and  she  flew 
down  the  steps  to  throw  her  arms  around  Joyce.  It 
was  the  same,  lovable,  eager  little  face  that  looked 
up  into  his,  the  same  impetuous  unspoiled  child,  yet 
a  second  glance  left  him  puzzled.  There  was  some 
intangible  change  he  could  not  label,  and  it  interested 
him  to  try  to  analyze  it. 

She  was  taller,  of  course,  almost  as  tall  as  Joyce, 
with  skirts  almost  as  long,  but  it  was  not  that  which 
impressed  him  with  the  sense  of  change.  It  was  a 
certain  girlish  winsomeness,  something  elusive, 
which  cannot  be  defined,  but  which  lends  a  charm 
like  nothing  else  in  all  the  world  to  the  sweet  un- 
folding of  early  maidenhood. 

If  Phil  had  been  asked  to  describe  the  girl  that 
Mary  would  grow  into,  he  never  would  have  pic- 
tured this  development.  He  expected  her  desert  ex- 
periences to  give  her  a  strong  forceful  character. 
She  would  be  like  the  pioneer  women  of  early  times, 
he  imagined;    rugged  and  energetic  and  full  of  re- 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  135 

sources.  But  he  had  not  expected  this  gentleness 
of  manner,  this  unconscious  dignity  and  a  certain 
poise  that  reminded  him  of  —  he  was  puzzled  to 
think  of  what  it  did  remind  him.  Later,  it  came 
to  him,  as  he  continued  to  watch  her.  Not  for 
naught  had  Mary  set  up  a  shrine  to  her  idolized 
Princess  Winsome  and  striven  to  grow  like  her  in 
every  way  possible.  Not  in  feature,  of  course,  but 
often  in  manner  there  was  a  fleeting,  shadowy  un- 
defmable  something  that  recalled  her. 

In  her  younger  days  she  would  have  appropriated 
Phil  as  her  rightful  audience,  and  would  have  swung 
along  beside  him,  amusing  him  with  her  original 
and  unsolicited  opinions  of  everything  they  passed. 
But  a  strange  shyness  seized  her  when  she  looked  up 
and  saw  how  much  older  he  was  in  reality  than  he 
had  been  in  her  recollections.  She  had  no  answer 
ready  when  he  began  his  accustomed  teasing.  In- 
stead she  clung  to  Joyce  when  they  left  the  street- 
car, leaving  Betty  to  walk  with  Phil  as  they  threaded 
their  way  through  the  crowded  thoroughfares.  It 
was  so  good  to  be  with  her  again,  and  as  they  hur- 
ried along  she  squeezed  the  arm  linked  in  hers  to 
emphasize  her  delight. 

For  the  time,  Joyce  found  no  change  in  her,  for 
with   child-like   abandon    she    exclaimed   over   the 


136  MARY   WARE 

strange  sights.  "  Oh,  Joyce !  Snow !  "  she  cried, 
when  a  falling  flake  brushed  her  face.  "  After  all 
these  years  of  orange-blossoms  and  summer  sun  at 
Christmas,  how  good  it  seems  to  have  real  old  Santa 
Claus  weather!  I  can  almost  see  the  reindeer  and 
smell  the  striped  peppermint  and  pop-corn.  And  oh, 
oh!  look  at  that  shop-window.  It  is  positively  daz- 
zling! And  the  racket  —  "  she  put  her  hands  over 
her  ears  an  instant.  "  I  feel  that  I've  never  really 
heard  a  loud  noise  till  now." 

Joyce  laughed  indulgently,  and  stopped  with  her 
whenever  she  wanted  to  gaze  in  at  some  particularly 
attractive  show  window.  When  they  reached  the 
flat,  Mary  still  kept  near  her,  "  tagging  after  her," 
as  she  would  have  expressed  it  in  her  earlier  days, 
so  much  like  the  little  sister  of  that  time,  that  Joyce 
still  failed  to  see  how  much  she  had  changed  during 
their  separation. 

"  You  see  it's  just  like  a  doll-house,"  Joyce  said  as 
she  led  them  through  the  tiny  rooms  on  a  tour  of 
inspection.  "  All  except  the  studio.  We  had  a 
partition  taken  out  and  two  rooms  thrown  together 
for  that.  Now  the  company  will  have  to  go  in 
there  and  entertain  themselves  while  I  put  the  finish- 
ing touches  to  the  dinner.  The  kitchenette  will 
only  hold  one  at  a  time." 


THE  LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  137 

Betty  and  Phil  obediently  went  into  the  studio  to 
renew  their  acquaintance  of  two  years  before,  begun 
at  Eugenia's  wedding,  and  wandered  around  the 
room  looking  at  the  various  specimen's  of  Joyce's 
handicraft  pinned  about  on  the  walls.  One  of  the 
first  pauses  was  before  a  sketch  of  Lloyd,  done  from 
memory,  a  little  wash  drawing  of  her.  Mary,  stand- 
ing in  the  doorway,  heard  Phil  say,  "  Tell  me  about 
her,  Miss  Betty.  She  writes  so  seldom  that  I  can 
only  imagine  her  conquests." 

For  a  moment  Mary  watched  him,  as  he  studied 
the  sketch  intently.  Then  she  turned  away  to  the 
kitchenette  to  help  Joyce,  thinking  how  lovely  it 
must  be  to  have  a  handsome  man  like  that  bend  over 
your  picture  so  adoringly,  and  speak  of  you  in  such 
a  fashion. 

It  was  a  merry  little  dinner  party,  and  afterwards 
it  was  almost  like  old  times  at  the  Wigwam,  for  Phil 
insisted  on  helping  wipe  the  dishes,  and  was  so  boy- 
ish and  jolly  with  his  teasing  reminiscences  that  she 
almost  forgot  her  new  awe  of  him.  But  afterward 
when  they  sat  around  the  woodflre  in  the  studio  ( "  a 
piece  of  Henry's  much  enjoyed  extravagance,"  Joyce 
explained,  "  and  only  lighted  on  gala  occasions  like 
this")  they  were  suddenly  all  grown  up  and  seri- 
ous again.     Joyce  talked  about  her  work,  and  the 


138  MARY  WARE 

friends  she  had  made  among  editors  and  illustrators, 
and  ambitious  workaday  people  whose  acquaintance 
was  both  a  delight  and  an  inspiration.  It  was  Henri- 
etta who  brought  them  to  the  studio,  along  with  the 
Persian  rugs  and  the  "  old  masters,"  and  Joyce  could 
never  get  done  being  thankful  that  she  had  found 
such  a  friend  in  the  beginning  of  her  career. 

Phil  told  of  his  work  too,  and  his  travels,  and  in 
the  friendly  shadows  cast  by  the  flickering  firelight 
talked  intimately  of  his  plans  and  ambitions,  and 
what  he  hoped  ultimately  to  achieve. 

Betty  confessed  shyly  some  of  her  hopes  and 
dreams,  warranted  now,  by  the  success  of  several 
short  flights  in  essay  writing  and  verse,  and  then 
Phil  said  laughingly,  "  Do  you  remember  what 
Mary's  dearest  wish  used  to  be?  How  we  roared 
the  day  she  gravely  informed  us  that  it  was  her 
highest  ambition  to  be  '  the  toast  of  two  continents.' 
Is  it  still  that,  Mary?" 

"  No,"  she  answered,  laughing  with  the  rest,  but 
blushing  furiously.  "  I  had  just  been  reading  the 
biography  of  a  great  Baltimore  belle  who  was  called 
that,  and  it  appealed  to  me  as  the  most  desirable 
thing  on  earth  to  be  honoured  with  such  a  title.  But 
that  was  away  back  in  the  dark  ages.  Of  course  I 
wouldn't  wish  such  a  silly  thing  now." 


THE   LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  1 39 

"  But  aren't  you  going  to  tell  us  what  is  your 
greatest  ambition?  "  persisted  Phil.  "We  have  all 
confessed.  It  isn't  fair  for  you  to  withhold  your 
confidence  when  we've  given  ours." 

Mary  shook  her  head.  "  I've  had  my  lesson,"  she 
declared.  "  You'll  never  have  the  chance  to  laugh 
twice,  and  this  one  is  such  a  sky-scraper  it  would 
astonish  you." 

When  she  spoke,  she  was  thinking  of  that  moment 
on  the  stair,  under  the  amber  window,  when  through 
the  music  she  heard  the  king's  call,  and  was  first 
awakened  to  the  knowledge  that  a  high  destiny 
awaited  her.  What  it  was  to  be  was  still  unrevealed 
to  her,  but  of  the  voice  and  the  vision  she  had  no 
doubt.  Whatever  it  was  she  was  sure  it  would  be 
higher  and  greater  than  anything  any  one  she  knew 
aspired  to.  Yet  somehow,  sitting  there  in  the 
friendly  shadows,  with  the  firelight  shining  on  the 
earnest  manly  face  opposite,  she  did  not  care  so  much 
about  a  Joan  of  Arc  career  as  she  had.  It  would  be 
glorious,  of  course,  but  it  might  be  lonesome. 
People  on  pedestals  were  shut  off  from  dear  delight- 
ful intimacies  like  this. 

And  then  those  lines  began  running  through  her 
head  that  she  had  not  been  able  to  get  rid  of,  since 
the  morning  she  read  them  in  the  magazine : 


140  MARY   WARE 

"  For  if  he  come  not  by  the  road,  and  come  not  by  the  hill, 
And  come  not  by  the  far  seaway —  " 

She  wished  that  she  was  certain  that  she  could  add 
that  last  part  of  the  line,  "  Yet  come  he  surely  will!  " 
Just  then,  to  have  one  strong  true  face  bending 
towards  hers  in  the  firelight,  with  a  devotion  all  for 
her,  seemed  worth  a  lifetime  of  public  plaudits,  and 
having  one's  name  handed  down  to  posterity  on 
monoliths  and  statues. 

"  For  if  he  come  not  by  the  road,  and  come  not  by  the  hill, 
And  come  not  by  the  far  seaway  —  " 

"  Yes,  it  certainly  would  be  lonesome,"  she  de- 
cided. She  would  miss  the  best  that  earth  holds  for 
a  home-loving,  hero-worshipping  woman. 


CHAPTER    VIII 

CHRISTMAS    DAY    AT    EUGENIA'S 

"  Athough  this  is  only  the  twenty-fourth  of  De- 
cember, my  Christmas  has  already  begun,"  wrote 
Mary  in  her  diary  next  day ;  "  for  this  morning 
when  I  looked  out  of  the  window  everything  was 
white  with  snow.  It  has  been  so  long  since  I  have 
seen  such  a  sight,  all  the  roofs  and  chimney  tops 
a-glisten,  that  I  could  hardly  keep  away  from  the 
window  long  enough  to  dress. 

Phil  stayed  quite  late  last  night.  Just  as  he  was 
leaving,  Mrs.  Boyd  and  Miss  Lucy  came  home,  and 
of  course  we  had  to  stay  up  a  little  while  longer  to 
meet  them.  By  the  time  Jo)^ce  had  turned  the  daven- 
port in  the  studio  into  a  bed  for  me,  it  was  past 
midnight,  and  I  couldn't  go  to  sleep  for  hours. 
There  was  so  much  to  think  about. 

"  The  next  thing  I  knew  I  smelled  coffee,  and 
heard  Joyce  whistling  just  as  she  used  to  at  home 
when  she  was  getting  breakfast,  and  T  didn't  waste 
many  minutes  in  going  out  to  her  in  that  cunning 

141 


142  MARY   WARE 

kitchenette.  It  is  all  white  tiling  and  shining  nickel- 
plate,  as  easy  to  keep  clean  as  a  china  dish,  and  just 
a  delight  to  work  in.  I  never  thought  so  before,  but 
now  it  seems  to  me  that  it  is  just  as  nice  to  know 
how  to  serve  a  delicious  meal  as  easily  as  Joyce  does 
as  it  is  to  put  a  picture  on  canvas.  I  can  see  now 
what  a  good  thing  it  was  for  both  of  us  that  we  had 
to  serve  such  a  long  apprenticeship  in  work  and 
housekeeping,  even  if  it  did  seem  hard  at  the  time. 

"  '  It  gives  a  girl  a  sort  of  Midas  touch,'  Phil  said 
last  night ;  '  makes  her  able  to  gild  even  a  garret  and 
to  turn  any  old  place  into  a  home.'  He  was  so 
charmed  with  everything  about  the  flat  that  he  said 
he  wanted  to  move  into  one  right  away,  and  make 
biscuits  himself  on  a  glass-topped  table,  and  do  stunts 
with  the  tireless  cooker  like  Joyce.  He  has  had  a 
surfeit  of  cafes  and  hotels  and  boarding-houses. 

"  While  we  were  at  breakfast  the  postman  came, 
and  there  were  letters  and  packages  for  everybody. 
Lloyd  sent  a  present  to  each  of  us.  Mine  was  a 
darling  little  lace  fan  all  spangled,  like  a  cobweb  with 
dew-drops  caught  in  its  meshes.  We  opened  every- 
thing then  and  there,  as  we  had  already  had  part  of 
our  presents.  Jack's  to  me  was  this  holiday  trip, 
and  Mamma's  was  the  shirt-waist  that  I  travelled  in 
from  Washington. 


THE  LITTLE  COLONEL'S  CHUM  143 

"  Joyce  got  a  check  that  she  hadn't  expected  before 
next  month,  and  another  one  that  she  hadn't  ex- 
pected at  all.  It  was  for  some  initial  letter  sketches 
and  tail-pieces  that  had  been  travelling  around  to 
different  magazines  for  months.  Besides,  there  was 
an  order  for  a  frontispiece  for  a  child's  magazine. 
She  was  so  happy  she  could  hardly  finish  her  break- 
fast, and  said  now  she  could  give  me  the  present  she 
had  planned  to  give  me  in  the  beginning.  She  had 
been  disappointed  about  some  other  work  she  had 
counted  on,  and  thought  she  would  have  to  cut  my 
present  down  to  some  gloves  and  a  book,  but  now 
she  could  play  Santa  Claus  in  fine  style,  and  carry 
out  her  original  intention.  Just  as  soon  as  things 
were  in  order,  she  would  take  me  down  town  and  let 
me  choose  it. 

"  It  was  so  exciting,  not  knowing  what  it  was  go- 
ing-to  be,  and  hurrying  along  with  the  crowds  of 
shoppers ;  everybody  so  smiling  and  happy  and  good- 
natured,  no  matter  how  much  they  were  bumped 
into.  I  felt  Christmasey  down  to  my  finger-tips, 
although  they  were  nearly  frozen.  Last  night's 
snow  was  almost  a  blizzard,  and  left  it  stinging  cold. 

"  At  last,  after  buying  a  lot  of  little  things  to  put 
on  the  tree  at  Eugenia's,  and  keeping  me  guessing 
for  over  an  hour  about  my  present,  Joyce  took  us 


144  MARY   WARE 

into  a  furrier's,  and  bought  me  a  beautiful  set  of 
furs ;  a  lovely  long  boa  and  a  muff  like  the  one  Lloyd 
had  her  picture  taken  in  the  first  year  she  was  at 
Warwick  Hall.  I've  always  wanted  furs  like  them. 
They  look  so  opulent  and  luxurious.  And  maybe  I 
wasn't  proud  and  happy  when  I  saw  myself  in  the 
mirror!  They  just  make  my  costume,  and  they 
made  a  world  of  difference  in  my  comfort  when  we 
went  out  into  the  icy  air  again.  I  certainly  would 
have  squealed  if  I  hadn't  remembered  that  we  were 
on  Broadway,  when  Joyce  told  me  that  I  looked  so 
stunning  that  she  could  not  keep  her  eyes  off  me.  I 
knew  just  how  happy  it  made  her  to  be  able  to  give 
me  such  a  present,  for  I  remembered  what  pleasure 
I  had  in  sending  Jack  the  watch-fob  that  I  had 
earned  all  myself. 

"  Then  we  went  to  Wanamaker's  and  by  that  time 
it  was  so  late  she  said  we'd  better  go  up  stairs  and 
take  lunch  there.  There  wouldn't  be  time  to  go 
home  and  prepare  it  ourselves.  There  was  music 
playing,  and  it  was  all  so  gay  and  lively  that  I  kept 
getting  more  and  more  excited  every  moment. 
Finally,  while  we  were  waiting  for  our  orders  to  be 
filled,  Betty  said,  '  It  is  so  festive,  I  believe  I'll  give 
Mary  my  present  now,  instead  of  waiting  till  we  get 
to  Eugenia's.'    Then  she  took  a  jeweller's  box  from 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  145 

her  shopping  bag",  and,  lo  and  behold,  when  I  opened 
it,  the  little  bloodstone  ring  that  I'd  been. longing  for 
all  these  weeks !    I  was  so  happy  I  nearly  cried. 

"  After  lunch  we  came  back  to  the  flat  to  get  our 
suit-cases.  Joyce  is  packing  hers  now.  In  just  a 
few  minutes  she  will  be  ready,  and  then  we  will  turn 
the  key  in  the  door  and  be  off  for  Eugenia's.  Mrs. 
Boyd  and  Miss  Lucy  have  gone  to  Brooklyn  to 
spend  Christmas,  and  Miss  Henrietta  is  away  on  a 
month's  vacation." 

The  suburban  train  was  crowded  when  the  girls 
reached  it.  Even  the  aisles  were  full  of  bundle-laden 
passengers,  until  the  first  few  stations  were  past. 
Then  Betty  and  Joyce  found  seats  together,  and  a 
fat  old  lady  good-naturedly  drew  herself  up  as  far 
as  possible,  in  order  that  Mary  might  squeeze  past 
her  to  the  vacant  seat  next  the  window. 

"  I  can't  set  there  myself,  on  account  of  the  cold 
coming  in  the  cracks  so,"  she  wheezed  apologetically. 
"  But  young  people  don't  feel  draughts,  and  anyway, 
you  can  put  your  muff  up  between  you  and  it  if  you 
do." 

"  Mary  has  a  travelling  companion  after  her  own 
heart,"  laughed  Joyce  to  Betty,  as  they  watched  the 
old  lady's  bonnet  bobbing  an  energetic  accompani- 
ment to  her  remarks.     "  She's  always  picking  up 


146  MARY   WARE 

acquaintances  on  the  train.  She  can  get  more  en- 
joyment out  of  a  day's  railroad  journey  than  some 
people  get  in  a  trip  around  the  world." 

"  It  is  the  same  way  at  school,"  answered  Betty. 
"  You  have  no  idea  how  popular  she  is,  just  because 
she  is  interested  in  everybody  in  that  sweet  friendly 
way." 

They  went  on  to  talk  of  other  things,  so  absorbed 
in  their  own  conversation  that  they  thought  no  more 
about  Mary's.  So  they  did  not  see  that  presently 
she  turned  away  from  her  garrulous  companion,  and, 
wrapped  in  her  own  thoughts,  sat  gazing  at  the  fly- 
ing landscape.  It  was  not  at  the  snowy  fields  she 
was  smiling  with  that  happy  light  in  her  eyes,  nor  at 
the  gleaming  river.  She  was  only  dimly  conscious 
of  them  and  had  forgotten  entirely  that  it  was  the 
famous  Hudson  whose  shore-line  they  were  follow- 
ing. For  once  she  was  finding  her  own  thoughts 
more  interesting  than  the  conversation  of  an  unex- 
plored stranger,  although  the  old  lady  had  taken  her 
generously  into  her  confidence  during  the  first 
quarter  of  an  hour.  Indeed,  it  was  one  of  those  very 
confidences  which  had  sent  Mary  off  into  her  revery. 

"  I  tell  Silas  that  no  one  ever  does  keep  Christmas 
just  right  till  they  get  to  be  grand-parents  like  us, 
and  have  the  children  bringing  their  children  home 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  147 

to  hang  up  their  stockings  in  the  old  chimney 
corner.  'Peared  like,  that  first  Christmas  that  Silas 
and  me  spent  together  in  our  own  house  couldn't 
be  happier,  but  it  didn't  hold  a  candle  to  them  that 
came  afterwards,  when  there  was  little  Si  and  Emmy 
and  Joe  to  buy  toys  for.  Silas  says  we  get  a  triple 
extract  out  of  the  day  now,  because  we  not  only  have 
our  enjoyment  of  it,  but  what  we  get  watching  our 
children  enjoy  watching  their  children's  fun." 

She  reached  forward  and  with  some  difficulty  ex- 
tracted a  toy  from  the  covered  basket  on  the  floor 
at  her  feet,  a  wooden  monkey  on  a  stick.  "  I'm  just 
looking  forward  to  seeing  Pa's  face  when  he  drops 
that  into  Joe's  baby's  little  sock." 

Her  own  kindly  old  face  was  a  study,  as  she  slid 
the  grotesque  monkey  up  and  down  the  rod,  chuck- 
ling in  pleased  anticipation.  And  Mary,  with  her 
readiness  to  put  herself  into  another's  place,  smiled 
with  her,  sharing  sympathetically  the  anticipation  of 
her  return.  Straightway  in  her  imagination,  she 
herself  was  a  grandmother,  going  home  to  some 
adoring  old  Silas,  who  had  shared  her  joys  and 
troubles  for  over  half  a  century. 

Up  to  this  moment  she  had  been  thinking  that  it 
could  not  be  possible  for  any  one  to  have  a  happier 
Christmas  than  she  was  having.    A  dozen  times  she 


148  MARY   WARE 

had  smoothed  the  soft  fur  of  her  boa  with  a  caress- 
ing hand,  and  slipped  back  her  glove  to  delight  her 
eyes  with  the  sight  of  her  bloodstone  ringj  while  her 
thoughts  ran  on  ahead  to  the  house-party  towards 
which  they  were  speeding.  But  the  old  lady's  words 
had  opened  up  a  vista  that  set  her  to  day-dreaming. 

If  by  the  road  or  by  the  hill  or  by  the  far  sea-way 
"  he  "  should  really  come,  some  day,  then  of  course 
the  Christmases  they  would  spend  together  would 
be  happier  than  this.  Jack  had  always  said  that  she 
would  have  her  "  innings  "  when  she  was  a  grand- 
mother. All  her  life  Mary  had  been  dreaming  ro- 
mances about  other  people,  now  in  a  vague  sweet 
way  those  dreams  began  to  centre  around  herself. 

It  was  almost  dark  when  they  left  the  train.  Phil 
was  at  the  station  to  meet  them  with  a  sleigh  and 
a  team  of  spirited  black  horses. 

"  Oh,  sleighbells !  "  sighed  Joyce,  ecstatically,  as 
she  climbed  into  the  back  seat  beside  Betty.  "  I 
haven't  been  behind  any  since  I  left  Plainsville.  I 
wish  we  had  forty  miles  to  go.  Nothing  makes  me 
feel  so  larky  as  the  sound  of  sleighbells." 

Phil  glanced  back  over  his  shoulder.  "  It  is  a  bare 
mile  and  a  half  to  the  house,  but  I  told  Eugenia  I'd 
bring  you  home  the  roundabout  way  to  make  the 
drive  longer,  if  you  all  were  not  cold.  What  do  you 
say?" 


THE   LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  149 

"  The  long  way  by  all  means !  "  cried  Joyce  and 
Betty  in  the  same  breath. 

Phil  laughed.  "  The  ayes  have  it.  Even  Mary's 
eyes,  although  she  doesn't  say  anything,"  he  added, 
seeing  the  beaming  smile  that  crossed  her  face  at  the 
prospect  of  a  longer  drive.  "  They  are  shining  like 
two  stars,"  he  went  on  mischievously,  amused  to 
see  the  colour  flame  up  into  her  cheeks,  and  notic- 
ing how  becoming  it  was.  Then  his  mettlesome 
horses  claimed  his  attention  for  awhile. 

Later,  as  he  looked  back  from  time  to  time,  in 
conversation  with  the  older  girls,  his  glance  rested 
on  Mary,  sitting  beside  him  as  contented  and  happy 
as  a  kitten  in  those  becoming  furs,  and  he  thought 
with  satisfaction  that  the  little  Vicar  was  growing 
up  to  be  a  very  pretty  girl  after  all.  Her  eyes  were 
positively  starry  under  her  long,  curling  lashes. 

That  Eugenia  regarded  their  coming  as  a  great 
event,  they  felt  from  the  moment  the  sleigh  drew  up 
to  the  house.  From  every  window  streamed  a  wel- 
coming light,  and  the  front  door,  flung  open  at  their 
approach,  showed  that  the  wide  reception  hall  had 
been  transformed  into  a  bower  of  Christmas  greens. 
Eugenia,  radiant  in  her  most  becoming  dinner  gown 
of  holly  red,  came  running  down  the  steps  to  meet 
them. 


150  MARY  WARE 

Ever  since  she  had  been  established  as  mistress  of 
this  beautiful  country  place,  she  had  longed  for  them 
to  visit  her.  Guests  she  had  in  plenty,  for  young 
Doctor  Tremont  and  his  wife  were  noted  for  their 
lavish  hospitality,  but  the  welcome  accorded  her  new 
friends  and  neighbours  was  nothing  to  the  one  re- 
served for  these  old  friends  of  her  girlhood.  She 
wanted  them  to  see  for  themselves  that  she  had  made 
no  mistake  in  her  weaving,  and  that  marriage  had 
indeed  brought  her  the  "  diamond  leaf  "  that  Ab- 
dallah  found  only  in  Paradise. 

"  Patricia  had  just  dropped  asleep,"  she  told  them 
as  she  led  the  way  up  stairs.  Not  that  it  was  the 
proper  time,  but  she  was  always  doing  unexpected 
things.  That  very  day  she  had  surprised  them  with 
four  new  words  which  they  had  not  dreamed  she 
could  say.  Eliot  had  orders  to  bring  her  in  the 
moment  that  she  awakened,  so  they  could  soon  see 
the  most  remarkable  child,  in  the  world.  Yes,  Eliot 
was  still  with  her,  good  old  Eliot.  She  intended  to 
keep  her  always.  Not  as  a  maid,  however.  She  had 
earned  the  position  of  guardian  angel  to  Patricia  by 
all  her  years  of  devoted  service,  and  she  played  her 
part  to  perfection. 

While  the  girls  opened  their  suit-cases  and 
changed  their  dresses  to  costumes  more  suitable  tor 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  151 

evening,  Eugenia  stood  in  the  door  between  the  two 
rooms,  turning  first  one  way  and  then  the  other  to 
answer  the  questions  rapidly  propounded.  Mary, 
thankful  that  her  white  pongee  had  not  wrinkled, 
divided  her  attention  between  the  donning  of  that, 
and  the  information  that  Eugenia  was  imparting. 

She  had  named  the  baby  for  Stuart's  great-aunt 
Patricia,  who  for  so  many  years  had  been  like  a 
mother  to  the  boys  and  Elsie.  She  felt  that  she  owed 
the  dear,  prim  old  lady  that  much  as  a  sort  of 
reparation  for  all  she  had  suffered  at  the  hands  of 
the  boys  whom  she  had  loved  so  dearly  in  spite  of 
her  inability  to  understand  them.  Father  Tremont 
had  been  so  touched  and  pleased  when  she  proposed 
it.  No,  he  could  not  be  with  them  this  Christmas. 
He  had  taken  Elsie  to  the  south  of  France.  She  was 
not  very  strong.  Yes,  Phil  approved  of  her  choice 
of  names,  but  he  said  just  as  soon  as  she  was  old 
enough  he  intended  to  buy  her  a  monkey  and  name 
it  Dago,  so  that  there  would  be  one  Patricia  who 
was  not  afraid  of  such  a  pet.1 

Mary,  who  had  watched  with  keen  interest  the 
unwrapping  of  the  dozens  of  beautiful  wedding 
gifts  at  The  Locusts,  took  a  peculiar  pleasure  in 

1  See  "  The  Story  of  Dago  "  for  an  account  of  Phil's  and  Stuart's 
childhood. 


152  MARY   WARE 

looking  around  for  them  now,  and  recognizing  them 
among  the  handsome  furnishings  of  the  different 
rooms.  Heretofore  the  Locusts  had  been  her  ideal 
of  all  that  a  home  should  be,  but  this  far  surpassed 
anything  she  had  ever  seen  in  luxurious  fittings. 

As  the  girls  followed  their  hostess  over  the  house, 
with  admiring  exclamations  for  each  room,  Mary 
thought  with  inward  amusement  of  the  cold  shivers 
she  had  had,  as  she  stood  with  the  bridal  party  be- 
tween the  Rose-gate  and  the  flower  crowned  altar, 
listening  to  the  solemn  vow :  "  I,  Eugenia,  —  take 
thee,  Stuart  —  for  better,  for  worse  —  "  There 
had  been  no  worse.  It  was  all  better,  infinitely 
better,  and  the  shivers  had  been  entirely  unnecessary. 

Stuart  came  in  presently,  from  a  long  round  of 
professional  visits.  The  young  doctor  had  nearly 
as  large  a  practise  as  his  father,  and  had  been  riding 
all  afternoon.  Mary  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  meet- 
ing with  Eugenia,  in  the  hall,  and  when  he  came  in, 
cordial  as  a  boy  in  his  welcome,  and  by  numberless 
little  courtesies  showing  himself  the  most  considerate 
of  hosts  and  husbands,  she  thought  again,  "  This  is 
one  time  it  was  certainly  all  '  for  better.'  " 

"Where  is  'Pat's  Pill'?"  he  asked,  looking 
around  for  Phil.  "  That  is  Patricia's  name  for 
him,  as  near  as  she  can  say  it.    Wouldn't  you  know 


SHE    WAS    A    FASCINATING    LITTLE    CREATURE,    ALL    SMILES    AND 
DIMPLES." 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  153 

that  she  was  a  doctor's  daughter,  by  giving  her  dot- 
ing uncle  a  pill  for  a  name  ?  " 

Phil  and  Mr.  Forbes  came  in  together.  To  Betty, 
one  of  the  pleasantest  parts  of  her  visit  was  this 
meeting  with  the  "  Cousin  Carl,"  who  had  added 
such  vistas  of  delight  to  her  life  by  taking  her  to 
Europe  the  year  she  was  threatened  with  blindness. 
His  hair  was  grayer  now  than  then,  and  the  years 
had  added  a  few  lines  to  his  kind  face,  but  he  was 
not  nearly  so  grave.  He  smiled  oftener,  and  she 
noticed  with  satisfaction  his  evident  pride  in  Eu- 
genia since  she  had  blossomed  into  such  a  happy, 
enthusiastic  housewife,  and  his  devotion  to  little 
Patricia,  when  she  was  brought  in  for  awhile  just 
after  dinner. 

She  was  a  fascinating  little  creature,  all  smiles 
and  dimples  and  coquettish  shrugs,  and  she  held 
royal  court  the  few  moments  she  was  allowed  to 
monopolize  the  attention  of  the  company.  It  was  her 
second  Christmas  eve,  and  she  had  been  brought 
down  for  the  first  public  ceremony  of  hanging  her 
stocking  in  the  great  chimney  corner.  Even  after 
she  was  carried  away  it  was  plain  to  be  seen  how 
the  interest  of  the  house  centred  around  her.  There 
was  a  tender  glow  in  Eugenia's  eyes  every  time  she 
looked  at  the  tiny  whik  stocking  hanging  from  the 


154  MARY   W ARE 

holly  wreathed  mantel.  And  it  was  also  plain  to  be 
seen  that  the  little  stocking  gave  a  deeper  meaning 
to  the  words  carved  underneath,  to  every  one  gath- 
ered around  the  fire :  "  East  or  West,  Home  is  best." 
When  the  trimming  of  the  great  tree  in  the  library 
began,  it  was  found  that  each  member  of  the  house- 
hold had  bought  her  enough  toys  to  stock  a  show- 
window. 

"  There  is  really  too  much  for  one  kid,"  said  Phil 
gravely,  surveying  his  own  lavish  contributions. 
"  What  can  she  do  with  them  when  it  is  all  over?  " 

Eugenia  glanced  from  the  long  row  of  dolls 
she  was  counting,  to  the  assortment  of  stuffed  ani- 
mals and  toys  already  weighting  the  tinsel-decked 
branches.  "  She  shall  keep  them  only  a  day.  I 
have  made  up  my  mind  that  she  shall  not  grow  up 
to  be  the  selfish  child  that  I  was  before  Betty  came 
along  with  her  Tusitala  story  and  her  Road  of  the 
Loving  Heart.  She  is  to  begin  to  build  one  now, 
even  before  she  is  old  enough  to  understand.  This 
is  her  first  Christmas  tree.  To-morrow  she  shall 
choose  one  gift  from  each  person's  assortment  of 
offerings.  To-morrow  night  the  tree  and  all  the 
rest  of  the  presents  are  to  be  turned  over  to  the 
little  orphans  of  St.  Bonifac1  Refuge." 

"  Daddy's  name  for  her  '    '  Blessing,'  "  explained 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  155 

Stuart.  "  So  you  see  she  is  in  a  fair  way  to  be 
trained  up  to  fit  it." 

Since  the  tree  was  for  children  only,  no  gifts  for 
the  older  people  appeared  among  its  branches,  but  in 
the  night  some  silent-footed  Kriss  Kringle  made  his 
stealthy  rounds,  and  left  a  gay  little  red  and  white 
stocking  by  every  bedside.  Mary  discovered  hers 
early  in  the  morning,  after  the  maid  had  been  in  to 
turn  on  the  heat  in  the  radiator,  and  close  the  win- 
dows. She  wondered  how  it  could  have  been  placed 
there  without  her  knowledge,  for  the  slightest  mo- 
tion set  the  tiny  bells  on  heel  and  toe  a-jingling.  She 
touched  it  several  times  just  to  start  the  silvery 
tinkle,  then  sitting  up  in  bed  emptied  its  treasures 
out  on  the  counterpane.  It  was  filled  with  bon- 
bons and  many  inexpensive  trifles,  but  down  in  the 
toe  was  a  little  gold  thimble,  from  Patricia. 

It  was  in  the  chair  under  the  stocking  that  she 
found  the  gloves  from  Eugenia,  the  book  from 
"  Cousin  Carl  "  and  a  long  box  that  she  opened  with 
breathless  interest  because  Phil's  card  lay  atop.  On 
it  was  scribbled,  "  The  '  Best  Man's  '  best  wishes  for 
a  Merry  Christmas  to  Mary." 

Tearing  off"  the  ribbons  and  the  tissue  paper  wrap- 
pings she  lifted  the  lid,  and  then  drew  a  long  raptur- 
ous breath,  exclaiming,  "  Roses !    American  Beauty 


156  MARY   WARE 

roses !  The  first  flowers  a  man  ever  sent  me  —  and 
from  the  Best  Man !  " 

She  laid  her  face  down  among  the  cool  velvety 
petals  and  closed  her  eyes,  drinking  in  the  fragrance. 
Then  she  lifted  each  perfect  bud  and  half  blown 
flower  to  examine  it  separately,  revelling  in  the 
sweetness  and  colour.  Then  the  uncomfortable 
thought  occurred  to  her  that  she  was  happier  over 
this  gift  than  she  had  been  over  the  furs  or  the  long- 
wished-for  ring,  and  she  began  to  make  excuses  to 
herself. 

"  Maybe  if  I'd  always  had  them  sent  to  me  as 
Lloyd  and  Betty  and  the  other  girls  have,  it  wouldn't 
seem  such  a  big  thing.  But  this  is  the  first  time.  Of 
course  it  doesn't  mean  anything  as  it  would  if  he 
had  sent  them  to  Lloyd.  He  is  in  love  with  her. 
Still  —  I'm  glad  he  chose  roses." 

She  touched  the  last  one  to  her  lips.  It  was  so 
cool  and  sweet  that  she  held  it  there  a  moment  before 
she  slipped  out  of  bed  and  ran  across  the  room  to 
thrust  the  long  stems  into  the  water  pitcher.  She 
would  ask  the  maid  for  a  more  fitting  receptacle 
after  awhile,  but  in  the  meantime  she  would  keep 
them  fresh  as  possible. 

When  she  went  down  to  breakfast  she  wore  one 
thrust  in  her  belt,  and  some  of  its  colour  seemed  to 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  157 

have  found  its  way  into  her  cheeks  when  she  thanked 
Phil  for  his  gift.  The  same  rose  was  pinned  on  her 
coat,  when  later  in  the  morning  they  went  to  a 
Christmas  service  at  St.  Boniface,  the  little  stone 
church  in  the  village,  a  mile  away.  Eugenia  had 
suggested  their  going.  She  said  it  would  be  such  a 
picture  with  the  snow  on  its  ivy-covered  belfry,  and 
the  icicles  hanging  from  the  eaves.  Some  noted 
singer  was  to  be  in  the  choir,  and  would  sing  several 
solos.  The  walking  would  be  fine  through  the  dry 
crunching  snow,  and  as  they  had  right  of  way 
through  all  of  the  neighbouring  estates  between  them 
and  the  village,  it  would  be  like  going  through  an 
English  park. 

Stuart  had  an  urgent  round  of  professional  visits 
to  make  and  could  not  join  them,  and  at  the  last  mo- 
ment some  message  came  from  the  Orphanage  in 
reference  to  the  tree,  which  kept  Eugenia  at  home 
to  make  some  alteration  in  her  plans.  So  when  the 
time  came  to  start  only  the  four  guests  set  out  across 
the  snowy  lawn,  down  the  woodland  path  leading 
to  the  village.  They  went  Indian  file  at  first  in 
order  that  Phil  might  make  a  trail  through  the  snow, 
until  they  reached  the  beaten  path. 

It  was  colder  than  they  had  expected  to  find  it, 
and  presently  Mary  dropped  back  to  the  rear,  so  that 


158  MARY   WARE 

she  might  hold  her  muff  up,  unobserved,  to  shield 
the  rose  she  wore.  She  could  not  bear  to  have  its 
lovely  petals  take  on  a  dark  purplish  tinge  at  the 
edges  where  the  frost  curled  them.  In  the  church 
the  steam-heated  atmosphere  brought  out  its  fra- 
grance till  it  was  almost  overpoweringly  sweet,  but 
when  she  glanced  down  she  saw  that  it  was  no  longer 
crisp  and  glowing.  It  had  wilted  in  the  sudden 
change,  and  hung  limp  and  dying  on  its  stem. 

"  I'll  put  it  away  in  an  envelope  when  I  get  back 
to  the  house,"  thought  Mary.  "  When  they  all  fade 
I'll  save  the  leaves  and  make  a  potpourri  of  them  like 
we  made  of  Eugenia's  wedding  roses,  and  put  them 
away  in  my  little  Japanese  rose- jar,  to  keep 
always." 

Then  the  music  began,  and  she  entered  heartily 
into  the  beautiful  Christmas  service.  The  offering 
was  to  be  divided  among  the  various  charities  of  the 
parish,  it  had  been  announced,  and  Mary,  remem- 
bering the  bright  new  quarter  in  her  purse,  was  glad 
that  she  had  earned  that  bit  of  silver  herself.  It 
made  it  so  much  more  of  a  personal  offering  than  if 
she  had  saved  it  from  her  allowance.  She  slipped 
her  purse  out  of  her  jacket  pocket  as  the  prelude  of 
the  offertory  filled  the  aisles  and  rose  to  the  arches 
of  the  vaulted  roof. 


THE  LITTLE  COLONEL'S  CHUM  159 

The  man  who  carried  the  plate  was  slowly  making 
his  way  towards  the  pew  in  which  she  sat,  and  with 
her  gaze  fixed  on  him,  she  began  fumbling  with  the 
clasp  of  her  purse,  under  cover  of  her  muff.  She  had 
never  seen  such  a  rubicund  portly  gentleman,  with 
two  double  chins  and  expansive  bald  spot  on  his 
crown.  She  held  the  coin  between  her  fingers  await- 
ing his  slow  approach.  Just  as  he  reached  the  end 
of  their  pew  where  Phil  was  sitting,  she  sneezed. 
Not  a  loud  sneeze,  but  one  of  those  inward  convul- 
sions that  makes  the  whole  body  twitch  spasmod- 
ically. 

It  sent  a  handful  of  petals  from  the  wilted  rose 
showering  down  into  her  lap.  The  coin  dropped 
back  into  her  purse  as  she  made  an  instinctive  grab 
to  save  them  from  going  to  the  floor.  Then  blush- 
ing and  embarrassed  as  the  plate  paused  in  front  of 
her,  she  fumbled  desperately  in  her  purse  to  regain 
the  dropped  quarter.  The  instant  the  coin  left  her 
fingers  she  saw  the  mistake  she  had  made,  and 
reached  out  her  hand  as  if  to  snatch  it  back.  But 
it  was  too  late,  even  if  she  had  had  the  courage  to 
reclaim  it.  She  had  dropped  her  English  shilling 
into  the  plate  instead  of  the  quarter !  Her  precious 
talisman  from  the  bride's  cake,  that  she  had  carried 
as  a  pocket  piece  ever  since  Eugenia's  wedding. 


160  MARY  WARE 

Betty,  who  sat  next  to  her,  was  the  only  one  who 
saw  her  confusion,  and  her  sudden  movement 
towards  the  plate  after  it  passed.  She  glanced  at 
her  curiously,  wondering  at  her  agitation,  but  the 
next  moment  forgot  it  in  listening  to  the  wonderful 
voice  that  took  up  the  solo. 

But  the  solo,  as  far  as  Mary  was  concerned,  might 
have  been  a  siren  whistle  or  a  steam  calliope.  She 
was  watching  the  man  of  the  bald  head  and  the 
double  chins,  who  had  walked  off  with  her  shilling. 
Down  the  central  aisle  went  the  pompous  gentleman 
at  last  in  company  with  two  others,  and  the  three 
plates  were  received  by  the  rector  and  blessed  and 
deposited  on  the  altar,  all  in  the  most  deliberate 
fashion,  while  Mary  twisted  her  fingers  and  thought 
of  desperate  but  impossible  plans  to  rescue  her  shil- 
ling. 

If  she  had  been  alone  she  would  have  hurried  to 
the  front  at  the  close  of  the  service,  and  watched 
to  see  who  became  the  custodian  of  the  alms.  Then 
she  could  have  pounced  upon  him  and  begged  to  be 
allowed  to  rectify  her  mistake.  But  Phil  and  the 
girls  would  think  she  had  lost  her  mind  if  they 
should  see  her  do  such  a  thing,  unless  she  explained 
to  them.  Somehow  she  shrank  from  letting  any- 
body know  how  highly  she  valued  that  shilling.    All 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  161 

at  once  she  had  grown  self-conscious.  She  had  not 
known  herself,  just  how  much  she  cared  for  it  until 
it  was  gone  beyond  recall.  Aside  from  the  sentiment 
for  which  she  cherished  it  she  had  a  superstitious 
feeling  that  her  fate  was  bound  up  with  it  in  such  a 
way  that  the  gods  would  cease  to  be  propitious  if  she 
lost  the  talisman  that  influenced  them. 

No  feasible  plan  occurred  to  her,  however.  The 
choir  passed  out  in  slow  recessional.  The  congre- 
gation as  slowly  followed.  Mar}-  loitered  as  long 
as  possible,  even  going  back  for  her  handkerchief, 
which  she  had  purposely  dropped  in  the  pew  to  give 
her  an  excuse  to  return.  But  her  anxious  glances 
revealed  nothing.  The  vestry  door  was  closed,  and 
nobody  was  inside  the  chancel  rail. 

As  they  passed  down  the  steps  Phil  turned  to 
glance  at  a  small  bulletin  board  outside  the  door,  on 
which  the  hours  of  the  service  were  printed  in  gilt 
letters.  "  Dudley  Eames,  Rector."  he  read  in  a  low 
tone.  "  Strange  I  never  can  remember  that  man's 
name,  when  Stuart  is  always  quoting  him.  They 
are  both  great  golf  players,  and  were  eternally  mak- 
ing engagements  with  each  other  over  the  phone, 
when  I  was  here  last  summer.  I  heard  it  often 
enough  to  remember  it,  I'm  sure." 

He  did  not  see  the  expression  of  relief  which  his 


162  MARY   WARE 

remark  brought  to  Mary's  face.  It  held  a  suggestion 
which  she  resolved  to  act  upon  as  soon  as  she  could 
find  opportunity.  She  would  telephone  to  the  rector 
about  it. 


CHAPTER    IX 

THE    BRIDE  -  CAKE   SHILLING    COMES    TO    LIGHT 

All  the  way  home  she  kept  nervously  rehearsing 
to  herself  the  explanation  which  she  intended  to 
make,  so  absorbed  in  her  thoughts,  that  she  started 
guiltily  when  the  girls  laughed,  and  she  found  that 
Phil  had  asked  her  a  question  three  times  without 
attracting  her  attention.  When  they  reached  the 
house  it  was  some  time  before  she  could  slip  upstairs 
unobserved.  No  amateur  burglar,  afraid  of  discov- 
ery, ever  made  a  more  stealthy  approach  towards  his 
booty  than  she  made  towards  the  telephone.  At  any 
moment  some  one  might  come  running  up  to  the 
nursery.  Three  times  she  started  out  of  her  door, 
and  each  time  the  upstairs  maid  came  through  the 
hall  and  she  drew  back  again. 

When  she  finally  screwed  up  her  courage  to  sit 
down  at  the  desk  and  find  the  rector's  number,  her 
heart  was  beating  so  fast  that  her  voice  trembled, 
as  if  she  were  on  the  verge  of  tears.  Luckily  the 
^Reverend  Eames  had  just  returned  to  his  study  and 

163 


j64  MARY   WARE 

answered  immediately.  In  her  embarrassment  she 
plunged  as  usual  into  the  middle  of  her  carefully  pre- 
pared speech,  explaining  so  tremulously  and  inco- 
herently that  for  a  moment  her  puzzled  listener  was 
doubtful  of  his  questioner's  sanity.  Finally,  when 
made  to  understand,  he  was  very  kind  and  very 
sympathetic,  but  his  answer  merely  sent  her  on 
another  quest.  She  would  have  to  apply  to  the 
treasurer,  he  told  her,  Mr.  Charles  Oatley,  who  al- 
ways took  charge  of  all  collections  of  the  church, 
depositing  them  in  the  bank  in  the  city,  in  which  he 
was  a  director.  That  was  all  the  information  he 
could  give  her  about  it.  Yes,  Mr.  Oatley  lived  in 
the  country,  near  the  village,  at  Oatley  Crest.  As 
this  was  a  holiday,  probably  he  would  not  take  the 
money  to  the  bank  until  the  following  morning. 

Hastily  thanking  him,  Mary  listened  a  moment 
for  coming  footsteps,  then  called  up  Oatley  Crest. 
To  her  disappointment  a  maid  answered  her.  The 
family  had  all  gone  to  take  dinner  with  the  James 
Oatleys,  and  would  not  be  home  until  late  at  night. 
No,  she  did  not  know  where  the  place  was  —  some 
twenty  miles  away  she  thought.  They  had  gone  in 
a  touring-car. 

Baffled  in  her  pursuit,  Mary  turned  away,  per- 
plexed and  anxious.     She  had  forgotten  to  ask  the 


THE  LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  165 

name  of  the  bank.  But  the  glimpse  she  caught  of 
her  worried  face  in  a  mirror  in  the  hall  made  her 
pause  to  smooth  the  pucker  out  of  it. 

"  It  is  foolish  of  me  to  let  it  spoil  my  Christmas 
day  like  this,"  she  reasoned  with  herself.  "  If  I  can't 
keep  inflexible  any  better  than  this  I  don't  deserve 
to  have  fortune  change  in  my  favour." 

So  armed  with  the  good  vicar's  philosophy,  she 
went  down  to  the  group  in  the  library.  Almost  im- 
mediately she  had  her  reward. 

"  Well,  what  did  you  think  of  the  offertory,  Miss 
Mary?"  asked  Stuart,  who  had  just  come  in,  and 
was  listening  to  the  account  that  the  girls  were  giv- 
ing Eugenia  of  the  morning's  music.  "  Your  sister 
thinks  the  soloist  had  the  voice  of  an  angel." 

"  I'll  have  to  confess  that  I  didn't  pay  as  much 
attention  to  that  as  I  did  to  the  first  solos,"  said 
Mary  honestly.  "  I  was  so  busy  staring  at  the  fat 
man  who  took  up  the  collection  in  our  aisle.  He  had 
at  least  four  chins  and  was  so  bald  and  shiny  he 
fascinated  me.  His  poor  head  looked  so  bare  and 
chilly  I  really  think  that  must  have  been  what  made 
me  sneeze  —  just  pure  sympathy." 

"  Oh,  you  mean  Oatley,"  laughed  Stuart.  "  He 
considers  himself  the  biggest  pillar  in  St.  Boniface, 
if  not  its  chief  corner-stone.    Awfully  pompous  and 


1 66  MARY   WARE 

important,  isn't  he?  But  they  couldn't  get  along 
without  him  very  well.  He  is  a  joke  at  the  bank, 
where  he  is  a  sort  of  fifth  wheel.  They  made  a  place 
for  him  there,  because  he  married  the  president's 
daughter,  and  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  draw  a 
salary." 

One  question  more  and  Mary  breathed  easier. 
She  had  learned  the  name  of  the  bank,  and  early  in 
the  morning  she  intended  to  start  out  to  find  it. 
With  that  matter  settled  it  was  easy  for  her  to  throw 
herself  into  the  full  enjoyment  of  all  that  followed. 
The  Christmas  dinner  was  served  in  the  middle  of 
the  day  instead  of  at  night,  and  the  afternoon  flew 
by  so  fast  that  Eugenia  protested  against  their  going 
when  the  time  came,  saying"  that  she  had  had  no 
visit  at  all.  Joyce  explained  that  she  had  promised 
Mrs.  Boyd  to  help  with  an  entertainment  that  night 
for  a  free  kindergarten  over  on  the  East  Side,  and 
that  she  must  get  to  work  again  early  in  the  morn- 
ing to  fill  an  order  for  some  menu  cards  she  had 
promised  to  have  ready  for  the  twenty-seventh. 

Betty,  also,  had  promised  to  go  back.  Mrs.  Boyd 
was  sure  she  would  find  material  and  local  colour  for 
several  stories,  and  she  felt  that  it  was  an  opportun- 
ity that  she  could  not  afford  to  miss. 

"  Then  Mary  must  stay  with  me,"  declared  Eu- 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  167 

genia,  and  Mary  found  it  hard  to  refuse  her  hos- 
pitable insistence.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  lost  shil- 
ling she  would  have  stayed  gladly,  and  once,  she  was 
almost  on  the  verge  of  confessing  the  real  reason  to 
Eugenia. 

"  I  don't  see  why  I  should  mind  her  knowing  how 
much  I  think  of  it,"  she  mused.  "  But  I  don't  want 
anybody  to  know.  They'd  remember  about  its  being 
a  '  Philip  and  Mary  shilling;  and  they'd  smile  at 
each  other  behind  my  back  as  if  they  thought  I  at- 
tached some  importance  to  it  on  that  account." 

To  the  delight  of  each  of  the  girls,  the  invitation 
which  they  felt  obliged  to  decline  was  changed  to 
one  for  the  week-end,  so  when  they  waved  good-bye 
from  the  sleigh  on  their  way  to  the  station,  it  was 
with  the  prospect  of  a  speedy  return. 

"  '  And  they  had  feasting  and  merry-making  for 
seventy  days  and  seventy  nights,"  quoted  Mary,  as 
the  train  drew  into  the  city.  "  I  used  to  wonder  how 
they  stood  it  for  such  a  long  stretch,  but  I  know  now. 
We  have  been  celebrating  ever  since  the  mock  Christ- 
mas tree  at  Warwick  Hall  —  ages  ago  it  seems  — 
but  there  has  been  such  constant  change  and  vari- 
ety that  my  interest  is  just  as  keen  as  when  I 
started." 

Mrs.  Boyd  and  Lucy  were  at  the  flat  waiting 


1 68  MARY   WARE 

for  them  when  they  arrived,  and  after  a  light  sup- 
per, eaten  picnic  fashion  around  the  chafing-dish, 
they  started  off  for  the  novel  experience  of  a  Christ- 
mas night  among  the  children  of  the  slums.  Betty 
did  find  the  material  which  Mrs.  Boyd  had  promised, 
and  came  home  so  eager  to  begin  writing  the  tale, 
that  she  was  impatient  for  morning  to  arrive. 
Joyce  found  suggestions  for  two  pictures  for  a 
child's  story  which  she  had  to  illustrate  the  follow- 
ing week,  and  Mary  came  home  a  bundle  of  tingling 
sympathies  and  burning  desires  to  sacrifice  her  life 
to  some  charitable  work  for  neglected  children. 

She  was  also  a-tingle  with  another  thought.  At 
the  corner  where  they  changed  cars  on  the  way  to 
the  Mission,  she  had  made  a  discovery.  The  bank 
where  St.  Boniface  deposited  its  money  loomed  up 
ahead  of  them,  massive  and  grim.  The  name 
showed  so  plainly  on  the  brilliantly  illuminated 
corner,  that  it  atmost  seemed  to  leap  towards  them. 
It  would  be  an  easy  matter  to  find  by  herself.  Now 
she  need  not  ask  anybody,  but  could  slip  away  from 
the  girls  early  in  the  morning,  and  be  on  the  steps 
first  thing  when  the  doors  opened. 

Fortunately  for  her  plans,  Joyce  announced  that 
they  would  have  an  early  breakfast,  in  order  that 
she  might  begin  work  as  soon  as  possible.     Mrs. 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  169 

Boyd  and  Lucy  had  not  returned  with  them  the 
night  before,  but  had  gone  back  to  Brooklyn  to 
finish  their  visit  with  their  friends  immediately  after 
the  exercises  at  the  Mission.  So  only  a  small  pile 
of  dishes  awaited  washing  when  their  simple  break- 
fast was  over.  Mary  insisted  on  attending  to  them 
by  herself  so  that  Betty  could  begin  her  story  at 
once. 

"  Strike  while  the  iron  is  hot !  "  she  commanded 
dramatically.  "  Open  while  opportunity  knocks  at 
the  door,  lest  she  never  knock  again!  I'll  gladly 
be  cook-and-bottle-washer  in  the  kitchen  while 
genius  burns  for  artist  and  author  in  the  studio! 
Scat!   Both  of  you!" 

So  they  left  her,  glad  to  be  released  from  house- 
hold tasks  when  others  more  congenial  were  calling. 
They  heard  her  singing  happily  in  the  kitchenette, 
as  she  turned  the  faucet  at  the  sink,  and  then  forgot 
all  about  her,  in  the  absorbing  interest  of  the  work 
confronting  them.  With  so  many  conveniences  at 
hand  the  washing  of  the  dainty  china  was  a  pleasure 
to  Mary,  after  her  long  vacation  from  such  work. 
Quickly  and  deftly,  with  the  ease  of  much  practise, 
she  polished  the  glasses  to  crystal  clearness,  laid  the 
silver  in  shining  rows  in  its  allotted  place,  and  put 
everything  in  spotless  order. 


170  MARY  WARE 

Joyce  heard  her  go  into  the  bath-room  to  wash 
her  hands,  and  thought  complacently  of  Mary's 
wonderful  store  of  resources  for  her  own  entertain- 
ment, wondering  what  she  would  do  next.  She  had 
been  asking  questions  about  the  roof  garden,  and 
how  to  open  the  scuttle.  Probably  she  would  be 
investigating  that  before  long,  getting  a  bird's-eye 
view  of  the  city  from  the  chimney  tops. 

"  I  believe  she  could  find  some  occupation  on  the 
top  of  a  church  steeple/'  thought  Joyce,  recalling 
some  of  the  things  with  which  she  had  seen  Mary 
amuse  herself.  There  was  the  time  in  Plainsville 
when  a  burned  foot  kept  her  captive  in  the  house, 
and  she  couldn't  go  to  the  neighbours.  Always  an 
indefatigable  visitor,  she  amused  herself  with  a 
pile  of  magazines,  visiting  in  imagination  each  per- 
son and  place  pictured  in  the  illustrations,  and  on 
the  advertising  pages.  She  played  with  the  break- 
fast-food children,  talked  to  the  smiling  tooth-pow- 
der ladies,  and  invented  histories  for  the  people  who 
were  so  particular  about  their  brands  of  soap  and 
hosiery. 

There  was  always  something  her  busy  fingers 
could  turn  to  when  tired  of  household  tasks ;  bead- 
work  and  basket-weaving,  embroidery,  knitting, 
even  strange  feats  of  upholstering,  and  any  repair 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  171 

work  that  called  for  a  vigorous  use  of  hammer  and 
saw  and  paint-brush.  A  girl  who  could  sit  by  the 
hour  watching  ants  and  spiders  and  bees,  who  could 
quote  poems  by  the  yard,  who  loved  to  write  letters 
and  could  lose  herself  to  the  world  any  time  in  a 
new  book,  was  not  a  difficult  guest  to  entertain. 
She  could  easily  find  amusement  for  herself  even  in 
the  top  flat  of  a  New  York  apartment  house.  So 
Joyce  went  on  with  her  painting  with  a  care-free 
mind. 

Meanwhile  Mary  was  slipping  into  her  travelling 
suit,  hurrying  on  hat  and  gloves  and  furs,  and  with 
her  heart  beating  loud  at  her  own  daring,  boldly 
stepping  out  into  the  strange  streets  by  herself.  It 
was  easy  to  find  the  corner  where  they  had  taken 
the  car  the  night  before.  Only  one  block  to  the 
right  and  then  one  down  towards  a  certain  building 
whose  mammoth  sign  served  her  as  a  landmark. 
But  the  night  before  she  had  not  noticed  that  the 
track  turned  and  twisted  many  times  before  it 
reached  the  corner  where  they  changed  for  the  East 
Side  car,  and  she  had  not  noticed  how  long  it  took  to 
travel  the  distance.  Rigid  with  anxiety  lest  she 
should  pass  the  place  she  kept  a  sharp  look-out,  till 
she  began  to  fear  that  she  must  have  already  done 
so,  and  finally  mustered  up  courage  to  tell  the  con- 


172  MARY   WARE 

ductor  the  name  of  the  bank  at  which  she  wished 
to  stop. 

"  Quarter  of  an  hour  away,  Miss,"  he  answered 
shortly.  So  she  relaxed  her  tension  a  trifle,  but  not 
her  vigilance.  There  were  a  thousand  things  to 
look  at,  but  she  dared  not  become  too  interested, 
for  fear  the  conductor  should  forget  her  destination, 
and  she  should  pass  it. 

At  last  she  spied  the  grim  forbidding  building  for 
which  she  was  watching,  and  almost  the  next  in- 
stant was  going  up  the  steps,  just  three  minutes  be- 
fore the  clock  inside  pointed  to  the  hour  of  opening. 
She  could  not  see  the  time,  however,  as  the  heavy 
iron  doors  were  closed,  and  the  moments  before 
they  were  swung  open  seemed  endless.  It  seemed 
to  her  that  people  stared  at  her.  curiously,  and  her 
face  grew  redder  than  even  the  cold  wind  war- 
ranted. Then  she  heard  the  porter  inside  shoot  the 
bolts  back  and  turn  the  key,  and  as  the  door  swung 
open  she  darted  past  him  so  suddenly  that  he  fell 
back  with  a  startled  exclamation. 

In  her  confusion  all  she  saw  was  the  teller's  win- 
dow, with  a  shrewd-eyed  man  behind  its  bars,  look- 
ing at  her  so  keenly  that  she  was  covered  with  con- 
fusion, and  forgot  the  name  of  the  man  she  wanted 
to  see. 


ALL    SHE    SAW   WAS   THE   TELLER  S   WINDOW,   WITH   A   SHREWD-EYED 
MAN    BEHIND    ITS    BARS." 


THE  LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  173 

"I  —  I — think  it  is  Wheatley,"  she  stammered. 
"  Any  way  he  is  awfully  fat,  and  has  two  double 
chins,  and  married  the  president's  daughter,  and  he 
takes  up  the  collection  at  St.  Boniface." 

The  man's  mouth  twitched  under  his  bristling 
moustache,  but  he  only  said  politely,  "  You  prob- 
ably mean  Mr.  Oatley.  He's  just  come  in."  Then 
to  Mary's  horror,  the  man  she  had  described  rose 
from  a  desk  somewhere  behind  the  teller,  and  came 
forward  pompously.  It  seemed  to  Mary  that  she 
stood  there  a  week,  explaining  and  explaining  as  one 
runs  in  a  nightmare  without  making  any  progress, 
jtbout  dropping  the  wrong  coin  in  the  St.  Boniface 
collection;  an  old  family  heirloom,  something  she 
would  not  have  parted  with  for  a  fortune;  then 
about  telephoning  to  the  rectory  and  to  Oatley  Crest. 
The  perspiration  was  standing  out  on  her  forehead 
when  she  finished. 

But  in  a  moment  the  ordeal  was  over.  A  clerk 
was  at  that  instant  in  the  act  of  counting  the  money 
which  Mr.  Oatley  had  brought  in  to  deposit.  The 
shilling  rolled  out  from  among  the  quarters,  and 
as  she  hurriedly  repeated  the  date  and  inscription 
to  prove  her  story,  the  coin  was  passed  back  to  her 
with  a  polite  bow. 

She  looked  into  her  purse  for  the  quarter  which 


174  MARY   WARE 

she  had  started  to  put  into  the  collection,  then  re- 
membered that  she  had  loaned  it  to  Joyce  for  car- 
fare the  night  before.  There  was  a  dollar  in  the 
middle  compartment,  and  eager  to  get  away,  she 
plumped  it  clown  on  the  marble  slab,  saying  hastily, 
"  That's  for  the  plate  —  what  I  should  have  put  in 
instead  of  the  shilling,  and  I  can  never  begin  to  tell 
you  how  grateful  I  am  to  get  this  back." 

In  too  great  haste  to  see  the  amused  glances  that 
followed  her,  she  hurried  out  to  the  corner  to  wait 
for  a  home-going  car.  While  she  stood  there  she. 
opened  her  purse  again  for  one  more  look  at  the 
rescued  shilling.  Then  she  gave  a  gasp.  When 
she  left  the  house  the  purse  had  held  a  nickel  and  a 
dollar.  She  had  spent  the  nickel  for  car  fare  and 
left  the  dollar  at  the  bank.  Nothing  was  in  it  now 
but  the  shilling,  and  that  was  not  a  coin  of  the 
realm,  even  had  she  been  willing  to  spend  it.  She 
would  have  to  walk  home. 

"  Now  I  am  in  for  an  adventure,"  she  groaned, 
looking  helplessly  around  at  the  hundreds  of  strange 
faces  sweeping  past  her.  "  It's  like  '  water,  water 
everywhere,  and  not  a  drop  to  drink.'  People, 
people  everywhere,  and  not  a  soul  that  I  dare  speak 
to." 

Knowing  that  she  could  never  find  her  way  home 


THE  UTILE   CO LO MEL'S  CtiVM  1*K 

should  she  undertake  to  walk  all  those  miles,  and 
that  she  would  attract  unpleasant  attention  if  she 
stood  there  much  longer,  she  started  to  stroll  on, 
trying  to  decide  what  to  do  next.  One  block,  two 
blocks  and  nearly  three  were  passed,  and  she  had 
reached  no  decision,  when  she  came  upon  a  moth- 
erly-looking woman  and  two  half-grown  girls,  who 
had  stopped  in  front  of  a  window  to  look  at  a  dis- 
play of  hats,  marked  down  to  half  price.  Mary 
stopped  too.  Not  that  she  was  interested  in  hats, 
but  because  she  felt  a  sense  of  protection  in  their 
company. 

"  No,  mamma,"  one  of  the  girls  was  saying,  "  I'm 
sure  we'll  find  something  at  Wanamaker's  that  will 
suit  us  better,  and  it's  only  a  few  blocks  farther. 
Let's  go  there." 

Wanamaker's  had  a  familiar  sound  to  Mary. 
The  place  where  she  had  lunched  only  two  days 
before  would  seem  like  .home  after  these  bewildering 
stranger-filled  streets.  So  when  the  bargain-hunt- 
ing trio  started  in  that  direction,  she  followed  in  their 
wake.  They  paused  often  to  look  in  at  the  windows, 
and  each  time  Mary  paused  too,  as  far  from  them 
as  possible,  since  she  did  not  want  to  call  attention 
to  the  fact  that  she  was  following  them. 

The  last   of  these  stops   was  before  a    window 


176  MARY  WARE 

which  looked  so  familiar  that  Mary  glanced  up  to 
see  the  name  of  the  firm.  Then  she  felt  that  she 
had  indeed  reached  a  well-known  haven,  for  the 
name  was  the  same  that  was  woven  in  gold  thread 
in  the  tiny  silk  tag  inside  her  furs.  It  was  the  place 
where  Joyce  had  brought  her  to  select  her  Christ- 
mas present,  and  there  inside  the  window  was  the 
pleasant  saleswoman  who  had  sold  them  to  her. 
She  had  been  so  nice  and  friendly  and  seemed  to 
take  such  an  interest  in  pleasing  them  that  Joyce 
had  spoken  of  it  afterward. 

Then  the  woman  recognized  her  —  looked  from 
the  furs  to  the  eager  little  face  above  them  and 
smiled.  It  seemed  incredible  to  Mary  that  she 
should  have  been  remembered  out  of  all  the  hun- 
dreds of  customers  who  must  pass  through  the  shop 
every  day,  but  she  did  not  know  that  the  sight  of 
her  delight  over  her  gift  had  been  the  one  bright 
spot  in  the  saleswoman's  tiresome  day. 

Instantly  her  mind  was  made  up,  and  darting  into 
the  shop  in  her  impetuous  way,  she  told  her  predica- 
ment to  the  amused  woman,  and  asked  permission 
to  telephone  to  her  sister. 

Joyce,  painting  away  with  rapid  strokes,  in  a 
hurry  to  finish  the  stent  she  had  set  for  herself, 
looked  up  a  trifle  impatiently  at  the  ringing  of  the 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  177 

telephone  bell.  Her  first  impulse  was  to  call  Mary 
to  answer  it,  but  reflecting  that  probably  the  call 
would  require  her  personal  attention  sooner  or  later, 
laid  down  her  brush  and  went  to  answer  it  herself. 
She  could  hardly  credit  the  evidence  of  her  own  ears 
when  a  meek  little  voice  called  imploringly,  "  Oh, 
Joyce,  could  you  come  and  get  me?  I'm  at  the 
furrier's  where  you  bought  my  Christmas  present, 
and  I  haven't  a  cent  in  my  pocket  and  don't  know 
the  way  home." 

"What  under  the  canopy!"  gasped  Joyce, 
startled  out  of  her  self-possession.  All  morning 
she  had  been  so  sure  that  Mary  was  in  the  next 
room  that  it  was  positively  uncanny  to  hear  her 
voice  coming  from  so  far  away. 

"  I've  never  known  anything  so  spooky,"  she 
called.     "  I  can't  be  sure  its  you." 

"  Well,  I  wish  it  wasn't."  came  the  almost  tearful 
reply.  "  I'm  awfully  sorry  to  interfere  with  your 
work,  and  you  needn't  stop  till  you  get  through. 
They'll  let  me  wait  here  until  noon.  I've  got  a  com- 
fortable seat  where  I  can  peep  out  at  the  people  on 
the  street,  and  I  don't  feel  lost  now  that  you  know 
where  I  am."  Then  with  a  little  giggle,  "  I'm  like 
the  Irishman's  tea-kettle  that  he  dropped  overboard. 
It  wasn't  lost  because  he  knew  where  it  was  —  in 
the  bottom  of  the  sea." 


178  MARY  WARE 

"  Well,  you're  Mary,  all  right,"  laughed  Joyce. 
"  That  speech  certainly  proves  it.  Don't  worry,  I'll 
get  you  home  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  Telephones  are  wonderful  things,"  confided 
Mary  to  the  saleswoman.  "  They  are  as  good  as 
genii  in  a  bottle  for  getting  you  out  of  trouble.  I 
should  think  the  man  who  invented  them  would  feel 
so  much  like  a  wizard,  that  he'd  be  sort  of  afraid 
of  himself." 

The  woman  answered  pleasantly,  and  would 
gladly  have  continued  the  conversation,  but  wras 
called  away  just  then  to  a  customer.  Hidden  from 
view  of  the  street  by  a  large  dummy  lady  in  a  seal- 
skin coat  and  fur-trimmed  skirt,  Mary  peeped  out 
from  behind  it  at  the  panorama  rolling  past  the 
window.  At  first  she  was  intensely  interested  in  the 
endless  stream  of  strange  faces,  but  when  an  hour 
had  slipped  by  and  still  they  came,  always  strange, 
always  different,  a  sense  of  littleness  and  loneliness 
seized  her,  that  amounted  almost  to  panic.  She 
longed  to  get  away  from  this  great  myriad-footed 
monster  of  a  city,  back  to  something  small  and 
familiar  and  quiet;  to  neighbourly  greetings  and 
friendly  faces.  The  loneliness  caused  by  the  strange 
crowds  depressed  her.    It  was  like  a  dull  ache. 

The  moments  dragged  on.     She  had  no  way  to 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  179 

judge  how  long  she  waited,  but  the  hour  seemed 
at  least  two.  Then  suddenly,  through  the  mass  of 
people  came  a  well-known  figure  with  a  firm,  athletic 
tread.  A  man,  who  even  in  this  crowd  of  well- 
dressed  cosmopolitans  attracted  a  second  look. 

"  Oh,  it's  Phil !  "  she  exclaimed  aloud,  her  face 
brightening  as  if  the  sun  had  suddenly  burst  out  on 
a  cloudy  day.  She  wondered  if  she  dared  do  such  a 
thing  as  to  tap  on  the  window  to  attract  his  atten- 
tion. She  would  not  have  hesitated  in  Plainsville  or 
Phoenix,  but  here  everything  was  so  different. 
Somebody  else  might  look  and  Phil  never  turn  his 
head. 

While  she  waited,  half-rising  from  her  chair,  he 
stopped,  looked  up  at  the  sign,  and  then  came  di- 
rectly towards  the  door.  Wondering  at  the  strange 
coincidence  that  should  bring  him  into  the  one 
shop  in  all  New  York  in  which  she  happened  to  be 
sitting,  she  started  up,  thinking  to  surprise  him. 
Then  the  surprise  was  hers,  for  she  saw  that  he  was 
in  search  of  her.  With  a  word  to  the  obsequious 
salesman  who  met  him,  he  came  directly  towards 
her  hiding-place  behind  the  dummy  in  sealskin. 
His  face  lighted  with  a  merry  smile  that  was  good 
to  see  as  he  crossed  over  to  her  with  outstretched 
hand,  saying  laughingly: 


180  MARY   WARE 

"  The  lost  is  found !  Well,  young  lady,  this  is 
a  pretty  performance !  What  do  you  mean  by 
shocking  your  fond  relatives  and  friends  almost 
into  catalepsy?  I  happened  to  drop  in  at  the  studio 
just  as  Joyce  got  your  message,  and  she  and  Betty 
were  at  their  wits'  end  to  account  for  your  disap- 
pearance." 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you,"  answered  Mary. 
"  You  can't  imagine !  I'm  even  as  glad  as  I  was 
that  time  you  happened  along  when  the  Indian 
chased  me."  She  ignored  his  question  as  entirely 
as  if  he  had  not  asked  it. 

He  asked  it  again  when  they  were  presently 
seated  on  a  homeward  bound  car.  "  What  I  want 
to  know  is,  what  made  you  wander  from  your  own 
fireside?  " 

Mary  felt  her  cheeks  burn.  She  was  prepared 
to  make  a  full  confession  to  the  girls,  but  not  for 
worlds  would  she  make  it  to  him.  Quickly  turning 
her  back  on  him  as  if  to  look  at  something  that 
had  attracted  her  attention  in  the  street,  she  groped 
frantically  around  in  her  mind  for  an  answer.  He 
leaned  forward,  peering  around  till  he  could  see 
her  face,  and  repeated  the  question. 

"  Oh,"  she  answered  indifferently,  bending 
slightly  to  examine  the  toe  of  her  shoe  with  a  little 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  iSl 

frown,  as  if  it  interested  her  more  than  the  ques- 
tion. "  I  just  went  out  into  the  wide  world  to  seek 
my  fortune.  You  know  I  never  had  a  chance  be- 
fore." 

"And  did  you  find  it?" 

She  laughed.  "  Well,  some  people  might  not 
think  so,  but  I'm  satisfied." 

"  Did  you  have  any  adventures  ?  "  he  persisted. 

"  Yes,  heaps  and  heaps,  but  I'm  saving  them  to 
go  in  my  memoirs,  so  you  needn't  ask  what  they 
were." 

"  Lost  on  Broadway,  or  Arizona  Mary's  Mys- 
tery !  "  exclaimed  Phil.  "  I  shall  never  rest  easy 
until  I  unearth  it." 

"  Then  you'll  have  a  long  spell  of  uneasiness," 
was  the  grim  reply.  "  Horses  couldn't  drag  it  from 
me. 

He  had  begun  his  questioning  merely  in  a  spirit 
of  banter,  but  as  she  stubbornly  persisted  in  her 
refusals,  he  began  to  think  that  she  really  had  had 
some  ridiculous  adventure,  and  was  determined  to 
find  out  what  it  was.  So  he  set  traps  for  her,  and 
cross-questioned  her,  secretly  amused  at  the  quick- 
witted way  in  which  she  continually  baffled  him. 

"  I  see  that  you  are  sadly  changed,"  he  said 
finally,  with  a  shake  of  the  head.    "  The  little  Mary 


182  MARY   WARE 

I  used  to  know  would  have  given  the  whole  thing 
away  by  this  time  —  would  have  blurted  out  the 
truth  before  she  knew  what  she  was  doing.  She 
was  too  honest  and  straight-forward  to  evade  a 
question.  But  you've  grown  as  worldly-wise  as  an 
old  trout  —  won't  bite  at  any  kind  of  bait.  Never 
mind,  though,  I'll  get  you  yet." 

Thus  put  on  her  guard,  Mary  refused  to  tell  even 
the  girls  what  had  possessed  her  to  take  secret  leave 
that  morning,  but  as  she  passed  Joyce  in  the  hall 
she  whispered  imploringly,  "  Please  don't  ask  me  to 
tell  now.  It  isn't  much,  but  I  don't  want  to  tell 
while  he's  in  the  house.    He  has  been  teasing  me  so." 

"  I'd  stay  to  lunch  if  anybody  would  ask  me  three 
times,"  announced  Phil,  presently.  "  I  have  to  have 
my  welcome  assured." 

"  I'll  ask  you  if  Mary  is  willing,"  said  Joyce,  who 
had  gone  back  to  her  work.  "  She  has  promised  to 
be  chef  to-day." 

Mary  regarded  him  doubtfully,  as  if  weighing 
the  matter,  then  said,  "  I'm  willing  if  he'll  promise 
not  to  mention  what  happened  this  morning  another 
single  time.  And  he  can  order  any  two  dishes  in  the 
cook-book  that  can  be  prepared  in  an  hour,  and  I'll 
make  them;  that  is,  of  course,  if  the  materials  are 
in  the  house." 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  183 

"  Then  I  choose  doughnuts,"  was  the  ready  an- 
swer. "  Doughnuts  with  holes  in  them  and  sugar 
sprinkled  over  the  top,  and  light  as  a  feather ;  the 
kind  you  used  to  keep  in  a  yellow  bowl  with  a  white 
stripe  around  it,  on  the  middle  shelf  in  the  Wigwam 
pantry.  Gee !  But  they  were  good !  I've  never 
come  across  any  like  them  since  except  in  my  dreams. 
And  for  the  second  choice  —  let  me  see!"  He 
pursed  up  his  lips  reflectively.  "  I  believe  I'd  like 
that  to  be  a  surprise,  so  Mistress-Mary-quite-con- 
trary, you  may  choose  that  yourself." 

"  All  right,"  she  assented.  "  But  if  it  is  to  be  a 
surprise  I  must  have  a  clear  coast  till  everything  is 
ready." 

Arrayed  in  a  long  apron  of  Joyce's,  Mary  stood 
a  moment  considering  the  resources  of  refrigerator 
and  pantry.  There  wrere  oysters  on  the  ice.  An 
oyster  stew  would  make  a  fine  beginning  this  cold 
day.  There  was  a  chicken  simmering  in  the  fireless 
cooker.  Joyce  had  put  it  on  while  they  were  getting 
breakfast,  intending  to  make  some  sort  of  boneless 
Concoction  of  it  for  dinner.  But  it  would  be  tender 
enough  by  the  time  she  was  ready  for  it,  to  make 
into  a  chicken-pie.  In  the  days  when  Phil  had  been 
a  daily  guest  at  the  Wigwam,  chicken-pie  was  his 
favourite  dish.    That  should  be  the  surprise  for  him. 


1 84  MARY  WARE 

It  was  queer  how  all  his  little  preferences  and 
prejudices  came  back  to  her  as  she  set  about  getting 
lunch.  He  preferred  his  lemon  cut  in  triangles  in- 
stead of  slices,  and  he  liked  the  cauliflower  in  mixed 
pickles,  but  not  the  tiny  white  onions,  and  he  wanted 
his  fried  eggs  hard  and  his  boiled  eggs  soft.  But 
then,  after  all,  it  wasn't  so  queer  that  she  should 
remember  these  things,  she  thought,  for  the  likes 
and  dislikes  of  a  frequent  guest  would  naturally 
make  an  impression  on  an  observant  child  who  took 
part  in  all  the  household  work.  It  was  just  the 
same  with  other  people.  She'd  never  forget  if  she 
lived  to  be  a  hundred  how  Holland  put  salt  in  every- 
thing, and  Norman  wouldn't  touch  apple-sauce  if 
it  were  hot,  but  would  empty  the  dish  if  it  were 
cold. 

"  I  can't  paint  like  Joyce,  and  I  can't  write  like 
Betty,"  she  thought  as  she  sifted  flour  vigorously, 
"  but  thank  heaven,  I  can  cook,  and  give  pleasure 
that  way,  and  I  like  to  do  it." 

An  hour  would  have  been  far  too  short  a  time  for 
inexperienced  hands  to  do  what  hers  accomplished, 
and  even  Joyce,  who  knew  how  quickly  she  could 
bring  things  to  pass,  was  surprised  when  she  saw  the 
table  to  which  they  were  summoned.  The  oyster 
stew  was  the  first  success,  and  good  enough  to  be 


THE  LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  185 

the  surprise  they  all  agreed.  Then  the  chicken-pie 
was  brought  in,  and  Phil,  cutting  into  the  light, 
delicately  browned  crust,  declared  it  a  picture  in  the 
first  place,  and  a  piece  of  perfection  in  the  second 
place,  tasting  the  rich,  creamy  gravy,  and  thirdly 
"  a  joy  for  ever,"  to  remember  that  once  in  life  he 
had  partaken  of  a  dish  fit  for  the  gods. 

"  Honestly,  Mary,  it's  the  best  thing  I  ever  ate," 
he  protested,  "  and  I'm  your  debtor  for  life  for 
giving  me  such  a  pleasure." 

Mary  laughed  at  his  elaborate  compliments  and 
shrugged  her  shoulders  at  his  ridiculous  exaggera- 
tions, but  in  her  heart  she  knew  that  everything 
was  good,  and  that  he  was  enjoying  each  mouth- 
ful. A  simple  salad  came  next,  with  a  French  dress- 
ing. She  had  longed  to  try  her  hand  at  mayonnaise, 
but  there  wasn't  time,  and  lastly  the  doughnuts, 
crisp  and  feather-light  and  sugary,  with  clear,  fra- 
grant coffee,  whose  very  aroma  was  exhilarating. 

"  Here's  a  toast  to  the  cook,"  said  Phil,  lifting 
the  fragile  little  cup,  and  smiling  at  her  through  the 
steam  that  crowned  it : 

"  Vive  Marie  I  Had  Eve  served  her  Adam  am- 
brosia half  as  good  as  this,  raw  apples  would  have 
been  no  temptation,  and  they  would  have  stayed  on 
in  Eden  for  ever !  " 


lS6  MARY  WARU 

It  certainly  was  pleasant  to  have  scored  such  a 
success,  and  to  have  it  appreciated  by  her  little 
world. 

The)'-  might  have  lingered  around  the  table  in- 
definitely had  not  a  knock  on  the  door  announced 
that  Mrs.  Maguire  had  come.  It  was  her  afternoon 
to  clean. 

"  So  don't  cast  any  anxious  eyes  at  the  dishes, 
Mary,"  announced  Phil.  "  We  planned  other  fish 
for  you  to  fry,  this  afternoon.  I  proposed  to  the 
girls  to  take  all  three  of  you  out  for  an  automobile 
spin  for  awhile,  winding  up  at  a  matinee,  but  Joyce 
and  Betty  refuse  to  be  torn  from  their  work. 
They've  seen  all  the  sights  of  New  York  and  they've 
seen  Peter  Pan,  and  they  won't  '  play  in  my  yard 
any  more.'  The  only  thing  they  consented  to  do 
was  to  offer  your  services  to  help  me  dispose  of 
this  last  day  of  my  vacation.    Will  you  go?  " 

"  Will  I  go ! "  echoed  Mary,  sinking  back  into  the 
chair  from  which  she  had  just  risen.  "  Well,  the 
only  thing  I'm  afraid  of  is  that  my  enjoyer  will  be 
totally  worn  out.  It  has  stood  the  wear  and  tear 
of  so  many  good  times  I  don't  see  how  it  can  pos- 
sibly stand  any  more.  Why,  I've  been  fairly  wild 
to  see  Peter  Pan,  and  I've  felt  so  green  for  the  last 
few  years  because  I've  never  set  foot  in  an  autorao- 


THE  LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  187 

bile  that  you  couldn't  have  chosen  anything  that 
would  please  me  more." 

"  Hurry,  then,"  laughed  Phil.  "  You've  no  time 
to  lose  in  getting  ready.  And  don't  you  worry 
about  your  '  enjoyer  '  —  it's  the  strongest  part  of 
your  anatomy  in  my  opinion.  I've  never  known 
any  one  with  such  a  capacity.  It's  forty-horse 
power  at  the  very  least." 

Only  a  matinee  programme  was  all  that  she 
brought  back  with  her  from  that  memorable  outing, 
but  long  after  it  had  grown  yellowed  and  old,  the 
sight  of  it  in  her  keepsake  box  brought  back  many 
things.  One  was  that  sensation  of  flying,  as  they 
whirled  through  snowy  parks  and  along  Riverside 
drive,  past  historic  places  and  world-famous  build- 
ings. And  the  delightful  sense  of  being  considered 
and  cared  for,  and  entertained,  quite  as  if  she  had 
been  a  grown  lady  of  six  and  twenty  instead  of  just 
a  little  school-girl,  six  and  ten. 

How  different  the  streets  looked!  Not  at  all  as 
they  had  that  morning,  when  she  wandered  through 
them,  bewildered  and  lost.  It  was  a  gay  holiday 
world,  as  she  looked  down  on  it  from  her  seat 
beside  Phil.  She  wished  that  the  drive  could  be 
prolonged  indefinitely,  but  there  was  only  time  for 
the  briefest  spin  before  the  hour  for  the  matinee. 


188  MARY   WARE 

More  than  all,  the  programme  brought  back  that 
bewitching  moment  when,  keyed  to  the  highest  pitch 
of  expectation  by  the  entrancing  music  of  the  or- 
chestra, the  curtain  went  up,  and  the  world  of  Peter 
Pan  drew  her  into  its  magic  spell. 

It  was  a  full  day,  so  full  that  there  was  no  oppor- 
tunity until  nearly  bedtime  to  explain  to  the  girls 
the  cause  of  her  morning  disappearance.  It  seemed 
fully  a  week  since  she  had  started  out  to  find  her 
lost  shilling,  and  such  a  trivial  affair  now,  obscured 
by  all  that  had  happened  afterward.  But  the  girls 
laughed  every  time  they  thought  about  it  while 
they  were  undressing,  and  Mary  heard  an  animated 
conversation  begin  some  time  after  she  had  gone  to 
bed  in  the  studio  davenport.  She  was  too  sleepy  to 
take  any  interest  in  it  till  Betty  called  out : 

"  Mary,  your  escapade  has  given  me  the  finest 
sort  of  a  plot  for  a  Youth's  Companion  story.  I'm 
going  to  block  it  out  while  I  am  here,  and  finish  it 
when  we  get  back  to  school.  If  it  is  accepted  I'll 
divide  the  money  with  you,  and  we'll  come  back 
on  it  to  spend  our  Easter  vacation  here." 

Mary  sat  up  in  bed,  blinking  drowsily.  "  I'm 
honestly  afraid  my  enjoyer  is  wearing  out,"  she 
said  in  a  worried  tone.  "  Usually  the  bare  promise 
of  such  a  thing  would  make  me  so  glad  that  I'd  lie 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  189 

awake  half  the  night  to  enjoy  the  prospect.     But 
somehow  I  can't  take  it  all  in." 

Fortunately  it  was  a  tired  body  instead  of  a  tired 
spirit  that  brought  this  sated  feeling,  and  after  a 
long  night's  sleep  and  a  quiet  day  at  home,  Mary 
was  ready  for  all  that  followed :  a  little  more  sight- 
seeing, a  little  shopping,  another  matinee,  and  then 
the  week-end  at  Eugenia's.  The  short  journey  to 
Annapolis  and  the  few  hours  with  Holland  did  not 
take  much  time  from  the  calendar,  but  judged  by 
the  pages  they  filled  in  her  journal,  and  all  they 
added  to  her  happy  memories,  they  prolonged  her 
holidays  until  it  seemed  she  had  been  away  from 
Warwick  Hall  for  months,  instead  of  only  two 
short  weeks. 


/ 

/ 


CHAPTER   X 

HER    SEVENTEENTH    BIRTHDAY 

"  Please,  Miss  Lewis,  please  do,"  came  in  a 
chorus  of  pleading  voices,  as  half  a  dozen  Freshmen 
surrounded  Betty  in  the  lower  hall,  one  snowy 
morning  late  in  January.  "  I  think  you  might  con- 
sent when  we  all  want  one  so  tremendously." 

"  Come  on  down,  Mary  Ware,"  called  A.O., 
catching  sight  of  a  wondering  face  peering  over  the 
bannister,  curious  to  see  the  cause  of  the  commotion. 
"  Come  down  here  and  help  us  beg  Miss  Lewis  to 
be  photographed.  There's  a  man  coming  out  from 
town  this  morning  to  take  some  snow  scenes  of  the 
place,  and  we  want  her  to  pose  for  him.  Sitting  at 
the  desk,  you  know,  where  she  wrote  her  stories, 
with  the  editor's  letter  of  acceptance  in  her  hand. 
Some  day  when  her  fame  is  world-wide  a  picture  of 
her  wearing  her  first  laurels  will  be  worth  a  fortune." 

' '  Oh,  Betty !  Have  they  really  been  accepted  ?  " 
cried  Mary,  almost  tumbling  down  the  stairs  in  her 

excitement,  and  forgetting  the  respectful  "  Miss  " 

190 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  191 

with  which  she  always  prefaced  her  name  when  with 
the  other  girls. 

Betty  waved  a  letter  which  she  had  just  received. 
"  Yes,  the  editor  took  them  both,  and  wants  more  — 
a  series  of  boarding-school  stories.  One  of  these 
girls  heard  me  telling  Miss  Chilton  about  it,"  she 
added,  laughing,  "  and  to  hear  them  you  would  think 
it  is  an  event  of  national  importance." 

"  It  is  to  us,"  insisted  A.O.  "  We  are  so  proud 
to  think  it  is  our  teacher,  our  special  favourite  one, 
who's  turned  out  to  be  a  sure-enough  author,  and 
we  aren't  going  to  let  you  go  until  you  promise  to 
sit  for  a  picture  for  us." 

"  Then  I  suppose  I  shall  be  forced  to  promise," 
said  Betty,  smiling  down  into  the  eager  faces  which 
surrounded  her,  and  breaking  away  from  the  en- 
circling arms  which  held  her  determinedly.  It  was 
good  to  feel  that  she  had  the  ardent  admiration  of 
her  pupils,  tr-ough  it  was  burdensome  sometimes  to 
contemplate  that  so  many  of  them  took  her  as  a 
model. 

"  I'm  going  to  write  too,  some  day,"  she  over- 
heard one  of  them  say  as  she  made  her  laughing 
escape.  "  I'd  rather  be  an  author  than  anything 
else  in  the  world.  It's  so  nice  to  dash  off  a  new 
book  every  year  or  so  and  have  a  fortune  come  roll- 


IQ3  MARY   WARE 

ing  in,  and  everybody  praising  you  and  trying  to 
make  your  acquaintance  and  begging  for  your  auto- 
graph." 

"  It  is  not  so  easy  as  it  sounds,  Judith,"  Betty 
paused  to  say.  "  There's  a  long  hard  road  to  travel 
before  one  reaches  such  a  mountain  top  as  that.  I've 
been  at  it  for  years,  and  I  can  only  count  that  I've 
made  a  very  small  beginning  of  the  journey." 

Still,  it  seemed  quite  a  good-sized  achievement, 
when  later  in  the  morning  she  beckoned  Mary  into 
her  room,  and  watched  her  eyes  grow  wide  over  the 
check  which  she  showed  her. 

"  One  hundred  dollars  for  just  two  short  stories !  " 
Mary  exclaimed.  "  And  you  wrote  most  of  them 
during  Christmas  vacation.  Oh,  Betty !  How  splen- 
did !  "  Then  she  looked  at  her  curiously.  "  How 
does  it  feel  to  be  so  successful  at  last,  after  being  so 
bitterly  disappointed?  " 

Betty,  leaning  forward  against  the  desk,  her  chin 
in  her  hand,  looked  thoughtfully  out  of  the  window. 
Then  after  a  pause  she  answered,  "  Glad  and  thank- 
ful —  a  deep  quiet  sort  of  gladness  like  a  bottomless 
well,  and  a  queer,  uplifted  buoyant  feeling  as  if  I 
had  been  given  wings,  and  could  attempt  anything. 
There's  nothing  in  the  world,"  she  added  slowly,  as 
if  talking  to  herself,  "  quite  so  sweet  as  the  realiza- 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  193 

tion  of  one's  ambitions.  I  was  almost  envious  of 
Joyce  when  I  saw  her  established  in  a  studio,  at  last 
accomplishing  the  things  she  has  always  hoped  to 
do.  And  it  was  the  same  way  when  I  saw  Eugenia 
so  radiantly  happy  in  the  realizing  of  her  ambition, 
to  make  an  ideal  home  for  Stuart  and  her  father  and 
to  be  an  ideal  mother  to  little  Patricia.  In  their 
eyes  she  is  not  only  a  perfect  house-keeper,  but  an 
adorable  home-maker. 

"  Lloyd,  too,  is  having  what  she  wanted  this  win- 
ter, the  social  triumph  that  godmother  and  Papa  Jack 
coveted  for  her.  Her  ambition  is  to  measure  up  to 
all  their  fond  expectations,  and  to  leave  a  Road  of 
the  Loving  Heart  in  every  one's  memory.  And  she 
is  certainly  doing  that.  Her  popularity  is  the  kind 
that  cannot  be  bought  with  lavish  dinners  and  ex- 
travagant balls.  She's  just  so  winsome  and  dear  and 
considerate  of  everybody  that  she's  earned  the  right 
to  be  called  the  Queen  of  Hearts." 

"  And  now  all  four  of  you  are  happy,"  remarked 
Mary,  "  for  your  dreams  have  come  true.  And  see- 
ing that  makes  me  all  the  more  determined  to  make 
mine  come  true." 

"  Oh,  the  valedictory  that  you  are  to  win  for 
Jack's  sake,"  said  Betty,  coming  out  of  the  revery 
into  which  she  had  fallen  for  a  moment. 


194  MARY   WARE 

"That's  only  one  of  the  things,"  began  Mary. 
"  The  others  —  "  Then  she  stopped,  hesitating  to 
put  in  words  the  future  she  foresaw  for  herself. 
Sometimes  in  the  daylight  it  seemed  presumptuous 
for  her  to  aspire  to  such  heights.  It  was  only  when 
she  lay  awake  at  night  with  the  moonlight  stealing 
into  the  room,  that  such  a  future  seemed  reasonable 
and  sure. 

Unknowing  that  the  hesitation  held  a  half-escaped 
confidence,  Betty  did  not  wait  for  her  to  go  on,  but 
held  up  the  check,  saying,  "  You  know  this  is  a 
partnership  story,  and  you  are  to  get  another  trip 
to  New  York  out  of  it.  Putting  your  shilling  in 
the  Christmas  offering  was  a  good  investment  for 
both  of  us.  If  you  hadn't  I  never  would  have 
thought  of  the  plot  which  your  adventure  sug- 
gested." 

"  But  you've  made  your  story  so  different  from 
what  actually  happened,  that  I  don't  see  how  I  can 
have  any  claim  on  it  at  all,"  said  Mary.  "  It's  just 
your  sweet  way  of  giving  me  Easter  Vacation  with 
Joyce." 

"  Indeed  it  is  not,"  protested  Betty.  "  Some  day 
I'll  follow  out  the  whole  train  of  suggestions  for 
you,  how  your  shilling  made  me  think  of  an  old 
rhyme,  and  that  rhyme  of  something  else,  and  so  on, 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  195 

until  the  whole  plot  lay  out  before  me.  There  isn't 
time  now.    It  is  almost  your  Latin  period." 

Mary  rose  to  go.  "  Once  I  should  have  been 
doubtful  about  accepting  such  a  big  favour  from 
any  one,"  she  said  slowly.  "  But  I've  found  out  now 
how  delightful  it  is  to  do  things  for  people  you  love 
with  money  you've  earned  yourself.  Now  Jack's 
watch-fob,  for  instance.  He  was  immensely  pleased 
with  it.  I  know,  not  only  from  what  he  wrote  him- 
self, but  from  what  mamma  said.  Yet  his  pleasure 
in  getting  it  was  not  a  circumstance  to  mine  in  giv- 
ing it.  Not  that  I  mean  it  will  be  that  way  about 
the  New  York  visit,"  she  added  hastily,  seeing  the 
amused  twinkle  in  Betty's  eyes.  "  Oh,  you  know 
what  I  mean,"  she  cried  in  confusion.  "  That  usu- 
ally it's  that  way,  but  in  this  case  it  will  be  a  thou- 
sand times  blesseder  to  receive,  and  I  never  can 
thank  you  enough." 

Throwing  her  arms  around  Betty's  neck  she 
planted  an  impetuous  kiss  on  each  cheek  and  ran  out 
of  the  room. 

Part  of  that  first  check  went  to  the  photographer, 
for  every  one  of  the  fifteen  Freshmen  claimed  a  pic- 
ture, and  many  of  the  Seniors  who  had  worshipped 
her  from  afar  when  they  were  Freshmen,  and  she 
the  star  of  the  Senior  class,  begged  the  same  favour. 


196  MARY   WARE 

The  one  which  fell  to  Mary's  share  stood  on  her 
dressing-table  several  days  and  then  disappeared. 
She  felt  disloyal  when  some  of  the  other  girls  who 
kept  theirs  prominently  displayed,  came  in  and 
looked  around  inquiringly.  She  evaded  their  ques- 
tions but  was  moved  to  confess  to  Betty  herself 
one  day. 

"I  —  I  —  sent  your  ^picture  to  Jack.  Just  for 
him  to  look  at  and  send  right  back,  you  know,  but 
he  won't  send  it.  I  hope  you  don't  mind.  He  says 
he  needs  it  to  keep  him  from  forgetting  what  the 
ideal  American  girl  is  like.  They  don't  have  them 
in  Lone-Rock.  There  isn't  any  young  society  there 
at  all.  And  he  was  so  interested  in  hearing  about 
your  literary  successes.  You  know  he  has  always 
been  interested  in  you  ever  since  Joyce  came  back 
from  the  first  house-party  and  told  us  about  you." 

That  Betty  blushed  when  Mary  proceeded  to 
further  confessions  and  quoted  Jack's  remarks  about 
her  picture  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  and  that  Mary 
should  see  the  blush  and  promptly  report  it  in  her 
next  letter  to  Jack  was  quite  as  inevitable.  She  had 
no  idea  how  many  times  during  his  busy  days  his 
glance  rested  on  the  photograph  on  his  desk. 

It  was  not  the  typical  American  girl  as  portrayed 
by  Gibson  or  Christy,  but  it  pleased  him  better  in 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  197 

every  way.  He  liked  the  sweet  seriousness  of  the 
smooth  brows,  the  steady  glance  of  the  trustful 
brown  eyes,  and  the  little  laughter  lines  about  the 
mouth.  Back  in  God's  country,  he  sometimes  mused, 
fellows  knew  girls  like  that.  Played  golf  and  tennis 
with  them,  rode  with  them,  picnicked  with  them,  sat 
out  in  the  moonlight  with  them,  talking  and  singing 
in  a  spirit  of  gay  comradery  that  they  only  half- 
appreciated,  because  they  had  never  starved  far 
want  of  it  as  he  was  doing. 

It  hadn't  been  so  bad  at  the  Wigwam,  for  Joyce 
was  always  doing  something  to  keep  things  stirred 
up;  making  the  most  of  the  material  at  hand.  It 
wasn't  that  he  minded  the  grind  and  the  responsibil- 
ity of  his  work.  He  would  gladly  have  shouldered 
more  in  his  zeal  to  push  ahead.  It  was  the  thought 
that  all  work  and  no  play  was  making  him  the  pro- 
verbial dull  boy,  and  that  he  would  be  an  old  man 
before  his  time,  if  he  went  on  without  anything  to 
relieve  the  deadly  monotony.  The  spirit  of  youth 
in  him  was  crying  out  for  kindred  companionship. 

All  unconscious  of  the  interest  she  was  arousing, 
Mary  filled  her  letters  with  reference  to  Betty ;  how 
they  all  adored  her,  and  how  she  was  always  in  de- 
mand as  a  chaperon,  because  she  was  just  a  girl 
herself  and  could  understand  how  they  felt  and  was 


198  MARY   WARE 

such  good  fun.  Presently  when  word  came  that  she 
had  scored  another  triumph,  that  one  of  the  leading 
magazines  had  accepted  a  short  story,  Jack  was 
moved  to  send  her  a  note  of  congratulation. 

Now  Jack  had  been  as  well  known  to  Betty  as  she 
to  him  since  the  days  of  the  long-ago  house-party. 
When  he  made  his  brief  visit  to  The  Locusts  just 
before  she  left  for  Warwick  Hall,  they  had  met  like 
old  friends,  each  familiar  with  the  other's  past. 
Unquestioningly  she  had  accepted  Papa  Jack's  es- 
timate of  him  as  the  squarest  young  fellow  he  had 
ever  met  —  "  true  blue  in  every  particular,  and  a 
hustler  when  it  comes  to  bringing  things  to  pass." 

Now  for  five  months  Mary  had  talked  of  him  so 
incessantly,  especially  while  they  were  visiting  Joyce, 
that  Betty  had  it  impressed  upon  her  mind  beyond 
forgetting,  that  no  matter  what  else  he  might  be 
he  was  quite  the  best  brother  who  had  ever  lived 
in  the  knowledge  of  man.  In  answer  to  her  cordial 
little  note  of  acknowledgment  came  a  letter  explain- 
ing in  a  frank  straightforward  way  why  he  had  kept 
her  picture,  and  how  he  longed  sometimes  for  the 
friendships  and  social  life  he  could  not  have  in  a 
little  mining  town.  And  because  there  was  a  ques- 
tion in  it  about  Mary,  asking  the  advisability  of  her 
taking  some  extra  course  she  had  mentioned,  Betty 
answered  it  promptly. 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  199 

Thus  it  came  about  without  her  realizing  just  how 
it  happened,  that  she  was  drawn  into  a  regular  cor- 
respondence. Regular  on  Jack's  side,  at  least,  for 
no  matter  whether  she  wrote  or  not,  promptly  every 
Thursday  morning  a  familiar  looking  envelope,  ad- 
dressed in  his  big  businesslike  hand,  appeared  on  her 
desk. 

February  came,  not  only  with  its  George  Wash- 
ington tea  and  Valentine  party,  but  musicales  and 
receptions  and  many  excursions  to  the  city.  No  day 
with  any  claim  to  celebration  was  allowed  to  pass 
unheeded.  March  held  fewer  opportunities,  so  Saint 
Patrick  was  made  much  of,  and  Mary's  sorority 
planned  a  spread  up  in  the  gymnasium  in  his  honour. 
She  had  never  once  mentioned  that  her  birthday 
fell  on  the  seventeenth  also,  not  even  when  she  first 
proudly  displayed  her  blood-stone  ring,  which  they 
all  knew  was  the  stone  for  March. 

Nobody  would  have  known  that  she  had  any 
especial  interest  in  the  date,  had  not  Jack  mentioned 
in  one  of  his  letters  to  Betty  that  Mary  would  be 
seventeen  on  the  seventeenth,  and  he  was  afraid  that 
his  remembrance  would  not  reach  her  in  time,  as  he 
had  forgotten  the  day  was  so  near  until  that  very 
moment  of  writing. 

The   whisper   that   went  around   never   reached 


20O  MARY  WARE 

Mary.  She  helped  decorate  the  table  with  sprigs  of 
artificial  shamrock  and  Irish  flags,  hunted  up  verses 
from  various  poets  of  Erin  to  write  on  the  little 
harp-shaped  place  cards,  and  suggested  a  menu 
which  typified  the  "  wearin'  o'  the  green  "  in  every 
dish,  from  the  olive  sandwiches  to  the  creme  de 
menthe.  To  further  carry  out  the  colour  scheme, 
the  girls  all  came  in  their  gymnasium  suits  of 
hunter's  green,  and  the  unconventional  attire  tended 
to  make  the  affair  more  of  a  frolic  than  the  elegant 
function  which  the  sorority  yearly  aspired  to  give. 

A  huge  birthday  cake  had  been  ordered  in  the 
jovial  saint's  honour,  but  nobody  could  tell  how 
many  candles  it  ought  to  hold  since  no  one  knew 
how  many  years  he  numbered.  But  Dorene  solved 
the  difficulty  by  saying,  "  Let  X  equal  the  unknown 
quantity,  and  just  make  a  big  X  across  the  cake  with 
the  green  candles." 

Never  once  did  Mary  suspect  that  the  spread  was 
in  her  honour  also,  till  she  was  led  to  the  seat  at  the 
head  of  the  table,  where  another  birthday  cake  stood 
like  a  mound  of  snow  with  seventeen  green  candles 
all  atwinkle.  She  was  overwhelmed  with  so  much 
distinction  at  first.  The  musical  little  acrostic  by  the 
sorority  poet  gratified  her  beyond  expression. 
Cornie  Dean's  toast  almost  brought  the  tears  it  was 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  201 

so  sweet  and  appreciative,  and  the  affectionate  birth- 
day wishes  that  circled  around  the  table  at  candle- 
blowing  time  made  her  feel  with  a  thankful  heart 
that  this  early  in  her  college  life  she  had  reached 
the  best  it  has  to  offer,  the  inner  circle  of  its  friend- 
ships. 

Each  one  told  the  funniest  Irish  bull  she  had  ever 
heard,  and  then  all  sorts  of  conundrums  and  foolish 
questions  were  propounded,  like,  "  Which  would 
you  prefer,  to  be  as  green  as  you  look  or  to  look 
as  green  as  you  are  ?  "  When  the  conversation 
touched  on  the  birthstone  for  March,  some  one 
suggested  that  Mary  ought  to  be  made  to  do  some 
stunt  to  show  that  she  was  worthy  to  wear  a  blood- 
stone, since  it  called  for  such  high  courage. 

"  Make  her  kiss  the  Blarney  stone!  "  cried  Judith 
Ettrick. 

"  At  Blarney  castle  they  let  you  down  by  the 
heels.  That's  the  only  way  you  can  kiss  the  real 
stone.  But  Mary  can  hang  by  her  knees  from  one 
of  the  turning-pole  bars,  and  we'll  buijd  up  a  pyra- 
mid under  her  to  put  the  Blarney  stone  on,  so  that 
she  can  barely  reach  it,  you  know.  Make  a  shaky 
one  that  will  topple  over  at  a  breath.  That  will 
make  it  harder  to  reach." 

The  suggestion  was  enthusiastically  received  by 


202  MARY  WARE 

all  but  Mary,  who  felt  somewhat  dubious  about  mak- 
ing the  attempt,  when  she  saw  them  begin  to  catch 
up  glasses  and  plates  from  the  table  with  which  to 
build  the  pyramid.  But  by  the  time  the  structure 
was  completed  and  topped  by  a  little  china  match- 
safe  in  the  shape  of  a  cupid,  to  represent  the  Blarney 
stone,  she  was  ready  for  her  part  of  the  performance. 

"  That's  what  you  get  for  being  born  in  Mars' 
month,"  said  Elise,  as  Mary  balanced  herself  a  mo- 
ment on  the  bar,  and  then  made  a  quick  turn  around 
it  to  limber  herself. 

"  You  wouldn't  be  expected  to  do  such  things  if 
the  signs  of  your  zodiac  were  different." 

"  Look  out !  "  warned  Cornie.  "  You'll  see  more 
stars  than  the  ones  in  your  horoscope  if  you  lose 
your  grip." 

"  Abracadabra !  "  cried  Mary  gamely.  "  May  I 
hold  on  to  the  pole,  and  the  pole  hold  on  to  me  till 
we've  done  all  that's  expected  of  us." 

It  was  a  dizzy  moment  for  Mary,  and  a  breathless 
one  for  all  of  them  as  she  swung  head  downward 
over  the  tottering  pile  of  china  and  glass  ware.  The 
china  cupid  was  almost  beyond  her  reach,  but  by  a 
desperate  effort  she  managed  to  swing  a  fraction  of 
an  inch  nearer,  and  seizing  its  head  in  her  mouth 
came  up  gasping  and  purple. 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  203 

"  Now  what  about  being  born  in  Mars'  month !  n 
she  demanded  triumphantly  of  Elise  as  soon  as  she 
could  get  her  breath.  "  A  bloodstone  will  do  more 
for  you  any  day  than  an  agate." 

Taking  this  as  a  challenge,  all  sorts  of  feats  were 
attempted  to  prove  the  superior  virtues  of  each  girl's 
birthstone  charm,  so  that  the  performance  ended  in 
a  gale  of  romping  and  laughter.  Then  at  the  last, 
to  the  tune  of  "  They  kept  the  pig  in  the  parlour  and 
that  was  Irish  too,"  Mary  was  gravely  presented  on 
behalf  of  the  sorority  with  the  gift  it  had  chosen  for 
her. 

"  For  your  dowry,"  it  was  marked.  It  was  a  toy 
savings-bank  in  the  form  of  a  china  pig,  with  a  slit 
in  its  back,  into  which  each  member  dropped  seven- 
teen pennies,  as  they  sang  in  jolly  chorus, 

11  Because  it 's  your  seventeenth  birthday, 
March  seventeen  shall  be  mirth-day. 
Oh,  may  you  long  on  the  earth  stay, 
With  pence  a-plenty  too." 

"  That's  an  example  in  mental  arithmetic,"  cried 
A.O.  "  Quick,  Mary !  Tell  us  how  much  your 
dowry  amounts  to.     Seventeen  times  sixteen  —  " 

But  Mary  was  occupied  with  a  discovery  she  had 
just  made.    "  There  are  just  seventeen  of  us  count- 


204  MARY  WARE 

ing  me !  "  she  cried.  "  I  never  knew  such  a  strange 
coincidence  in  numbers." 

"  If  you  save  all  your  pennies  till  you  have  occa- 
sion for  a  dowry  you'll  have  enough  to  buy  a  real 
pig,"  counselled  Cornie  wisely. 

"  More  like  a  whole  drove  of  them,"  laughed 
Mary.    "  That  time  is  so  far  off." 

"  Not  necessarily  so  far,"  was  Cornie's  answer. 
"  Sometimes  it  is  only  a  few  steps  farther  when  you 
are  seventeen.  Come  on,  before  they  turn  out  the 
lights  on  us." 

Mary  stopped  in  the  door  to  look  back  at  the  room 
in  which  they  had  spent  such  a  jolly  evening.  "  I'd 
like  to  stop  the  clock  right  here,"  she  declared,  "  and 
stay  just  at  this  age  for  years  and  years.  It's  so 
nice  to  be  as  old  as  seventeen,  and  yet  at  the  same 
time  to  be  as  young  as  that." 

Then  she  went  skipping  off  to  her  room  with  the 
dowry  pig  in  one  hand  and  a  green  candle  from  the 
cake  in  the  other,  to  report  the  affair  to  Ethelinda. 
They  were  not  members  of  the  same  sorority,  but 
they  had  many  interests  in  common  now.  They  had 
learned  how  to  adjust  themselves  to  each  other. 
Mary  still  reserved  her  deepest  confidences  for  her 
shadow-chum,  but  Ethelinda  shared  the  rest. 


CHAPTER   XI 

TROUBLE   FOR   EVERYBODY 

Up  in  Joyce's  studio,  Easter  lilies  had  marked  the 
time  of  year  for  nearly  a  week.  They  had  been 
ordered  the  day  that  Betty  and  Mary  arrived  to 
spend  the  spring  vacation,  and  still  stood  fresh  and 
white  at  all  the  windows,  in  the  glory  of  their 
newly  opened  buds.  They  were  Henrietta's  con- 
tribution.    Mrs.  Bqtd  and  Lucy  were  away. 

On  the  wall  over  the  desk  the  calendar  showed 
a  fanciful  figure  of  Spring,  dancing  down  a  flower- 
strewn  path,  and  Mary,  opening  her  journal  for 
the  first  time  since  her  arrival,  paused  to  read  the 
couplet  at  the  bottom  of  the  calendar.  Then  she 
copied  it  at  the  top  of  the  page  which  she  was  about 
to  fill  with  the  doings  of  the  last  five  days. 

"  How  noiseless  falls  the  foot  of  time 
That  only  treads  on  flowers." 

"  That  must  be  the  reason  that  I  can  hardly  be- 
lieve that  three  whole  months  have  gone  by  since 
the  Christmas  holidays.     I've  trodden  on  nothing 

205 


200  MARY   WARE 

but  flowers.  Even  though  the  school  work  was  a 
hard  dig  sometimes,  I  enjoyed  it,  and  there  was 
always  so  much  fun  mixed  up  with  it,  that  it  made 
the  time  fairly  fly  by.  As  for  the  five  days  we  have 
been  here  in  New  York,  they  have  simply  whizzed 
past.  Miss  '  Henry '  has  done  so  much  to  make 
it  pleasant  for  us.  She  is  great.  She  calls  herself 
a  bachelor-maid,  and  if  she  is  a  fair  sample  of  what 
they  are,  I'd  like  to  be  one.  The  day  after  we  came 
she  gave  a  studio  reception,  so  that  we  could  meet 
some  of  her  famous  friends.  She  wrote  on  a  slip 
of  paper,  beforehand,  just  what  each  one  was  fa- 
mous for,  and  the  particular  statue  or  book  or  paint- 
ing that  was  his  best  known  work,  and  instead  of 
copying  it,  I'll  paste  the  page  in  here  to  save  time. 

"  It  was  a  great  event  for  Betty.  Mrs.  LaMotte, 
who  does  such  beautiful  illustrating  for  the  maga- 
zines had  seen  Betty's  last  story,  and  asked  her  for 
her  next  manuscript.  If  she  illustrates  it,  the  pic- 
tures will  be  an  open  sesame  to  any  editor's  atten- 
tion. She  gave  her  so  much  encouragement  too, 
and  made  some  suggestions  that  Betty  said  would 
help  her  tremendously. 

"  One  of  the  best  parts  of  the  whole  affair  to  me 
was  to  see  Joyce  playing  hostess  in  such  a  distin- 
guished company.     They  all  seem  so  fond  of  her, 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  207 

and  so  interested  in  her  work,  that  Miss  Henrietta 
calls  her  '  Little  Sister  to  the  Great.' 

"  I  thought  that  I'd  be  so  much  in  awe  of  them 
that  I  couldn't  say  a  word.  But  I  wasn't.  They 
were  all  so  friendly  and  ordinary  in  their  manners 
and  so  extraordinary  in  the  interesting  things  they 
talked  about  that  I  had  a  beautiful  time.  I  helped 
serve  refreshments  and  poured  tea.  After  they 
had  all  gone  Joyce  came  over  and  took  me  by  the 
shoulders,  and  said  '  Little  Mary,  is  it  Time  or 
Warwick  Hall  that  has  made  such  a  change  in  you? 
You  are  growing  up.  You've  lost  your  self-con- 
scious little  airs  with  strangers  and  you  are  no 
longer  a  chatter-box.     I  was  proud  of  you ! ' 

"  Maybe  I  wasn't  happy !  Joyce  never  paid  me 
very  many  compliments.  None  of  my  family  ever 
have,  so  I  think  that  ought  to  have  a  place  in  my 
good  times  book. 

"  I've  had  a  perfect  orgy  of  sight-seeing  —  gone 
to  all  the  places  strangers  usually  visit,  and  lots  be- 
sides. We've  been  twice  to  the  matinee.  Phil  has 
been  here  once  to  lunch,  and  is  coming  this  after- 
noon to  take  us  away  out  of  town  in  a  big  touring- 
car.  We're  to  stop  at  some  wayside  inn  for  dinner. 
Then  we'll  see  him  again  when  we  go  out  to  Eu- 
genia's for  a  day  and  night.  We've  saved  the  best 
till  the  last." 


208  MARY   WARE 

"  Letters,"  called  Joyce,  coming  into  the  room 
with  a  handful.  "  The  postman  was  good  to  every 
one  of  us."  She  tossed  two  across  the  room  to 
Betty,  who  sat  reading  on  the  divan,  and  one  to 
Henrietta,  who  had  just  finished  cleaning  some 
brushes. 

"  Oh,  mine  is  from  Jack !  "  cried  Mary  joyfully. 
"  But  how  queer,"  she  added  in  a  disappointed 
tone,  when  she  had  torn  open  the  envelope. 
"  There  are  only  six  lines."  Then  exclaiming,  "  I 
wish  you'd  listen  to  this !  "    She  read  aloud : 

"  Mamma  thinks  that  your  clothes  may  be  some- 
what shabby  by  this  time,  so  here's  a  little  some- 
thing to  get  some  fine  feathers  with  which  to  make 
yourself  a  fine  bird.  You  will  find  check  to  cover 
remainder  of  year's  expenses  waiting  for  you  on 
your  return  to  school.  Glad  you  are  having  such 
a  grand  time.     Keep  it  up,  little  pard.  —  Jack." 

If  Mary  had  not  been  so  carried  away  with  her 
good  fortune,  and  so  immediately  engrossed  in  dis- 
cussing the  best  way  to  spend  the  check  she  would 
have  noticed  that  the  envelope  in  Betty's  lap  was 
exactly  like  the  one  in  her  own,  and  that  the  same 
hand  had  addressed  them  both.  Betty's  first  im- 
pulse was  to  read  her  letter  aloud.  It  was  so  un- 
usually  breezy    and    amusing.      But    remembering 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  209 

that  she  had  never  happened  to  mention  her  cor- 
respondence with  Jack  to  Mary,  and  that  her  sur- 
prise over  it  might  lead  her  to  say  something  before 
Henrietta  that  would  be  embarrassing,  she  dropped 
it  into  her  shopping  bag  as  soon  as  she  had  read  it, 
and  said  nothing  about  it. 

That  is  how  it  happened  to  be  with  her  when  she 
accompanied  Mary  that  afternoon  on  her  joyful 
quest  of  "  fine  feathers."  They  went  to  many 
places,  and  at  last  found  a  dress  which  suited  her 
and  Joyce  exactly.  Some  slight  alteration  was 
needed,  and  while  the  two  were  in  the  fitting  room, 
Betty  passed  the  time  by  taking  out  the  letter  for  a 
second  reading.  A  glance  at  the  post-mark  showed 
that  it  had  been  delayed  somewhere  on  the  road.  It 
should  have  reached  her  the  day  that  she  left  War- 
wick Hall.  It  had  been  forwarded  from  there.  She 
had  grown  so  accustomed  to  his  weekly  letter  that 
she  missed  it  when  it  did  not  come,  and  had  won- 
dered for  several  days  why  he  had  failed  to  write. 
Now  she  confessed  to  herself  that  she  was  glad  the 
fault  was  with  some  postal  clerk,  and  that  Jack  had 
not  forgotten.    She  turned  to  the  last  page. 

"  I  don't  know  why  I  should  be  telling  you  all 
this.  I  hope  it  does  not  bore  you.  I  usually  wait 
till  my  hopes  and  plans  work  out  into  something 


2IO  MARY   WARE 

practical  before  I  mention  them;  but  lately  every- 
thing has  gone  so  well  that  I  can't  help  being  san- 
guine over  these  new  plans,  and  it  makes  their 
achievement  seem  nearer  to  talk  them  over  withi 
you.  It  certainly  is  good  to  be  young  and  strong 
and  feel  your  muscle  is  equal  to  the  strain  put  upon 
it.  This  old  world  looks  just  about  all  right  to  me 
this  morning." 

When  Mary  came  dancing  out  of  the  fitting  room 
a  few  minutes  later  her  first  remark  was  so  nearly 
an  echo  of  Jack's  that  Betty  smiled  at  the  conci- 
dence. 

"  Oh,  isn't  this  a  good  old  world  ?  Everybody  is 
so  obliging.  They  are  going  to  make  a  special  rush 
order  of  altering  my  dress,  and  send  it  out  by 
special  messenger  early  in  the  morning,  so  that  I 
can  have  it  to  take  out  to  Engenia's.  I'm  holding 
fast  to  my  new  spring  hat,  though.  I  can't  risk  that 
to  any  messenger  boy.  Phil  will  just  have  to  let 
me  take  it  in  the  automobile  with  us." 

Promptly  at  the  hour  agreed  upon,  Phil  met  them 
at  the  milliner's.  As  Betty  predicted  he  did  laugh 
at  the  huge  square  bandbox  which  Mary  clung  to, 
and  inquired  for  the  bird-cage  which  was  supposed 
to  be  its  companion  piece.  But  Mary  paid  little  heed 
to  his  teasing,  upheld  by  the  thought  of  that  perfect 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  211 

dream  of  a  white  hat  which  the  derided  box  con- 
tained. Her  only  regret  was  that  she  could  not 
wear  it  for  him  to  see.  Joyce  and  the  mirror 
both  assured  her  that  it  was  the  most  becoming  one 
she  ever  owned,  and  it  seemed  a  pity  that  it  was 
not  suitable  for  motoring.  The  wearing  of  it  would 
have  added  so  much  to  her  pleasure.  However, 
the  thought  of  it,  and  of  the  new  dress  that  was  to 
be  sent  up  in  the  morning,  ran  through  her  mind 
all  that  afternoon,  like  a  happy  undercurrent.  She 
said  so  once,  when  Phil  asked  her  what  she  was 
smiling  about  all  to  herself. 

"  It's  just  as  if  they  were  singing  a  sort  of  alto 
to  what  we  are  doing  now,  and  making  a  duet  of 
my  pleasure ;  a  double  good  time.  Oh,  I  wish  Jack 
could  be  here  to  see  how  happy  he  has  made 
me!" 

The  grateful  thought  of  him  found  expression 
a  dozen  times  during  the  course  of  the  drive.  When 
they  stopped  for  dinner  at  the  quaint  wayside  inn 
she  wished  audibly  that  he  were  there.  Somehow, 
into  the  keen  enjoyment  of  the  day  crept  a  wistful 
longing  to  see  him  again,  and  the  ache  that  caught 
her  throat  now  and  then  was  almost  a  homesick 
pang.  Going  back,  as  they  sped  along  in  the  dark- 
ness towards  the  twinkling  lights  of  the  vast  city, 


212  MARY   WARE 

she  decided  that  she  would  write  to  him  that  very- 
night,  before  she  went  to  sleep,  and  make  it  clear  to 
him  how  much  she  appreciated  all  he  had  done  for 
her.  He  was  the  best  brother  in  the  world,  and  the 
very  dearest. 

Phil  went  up  with  them  when  they  reached  the 
entrance  to  the  flats.  He  could  not  stay  long,  he 
said,  but  he  must  see  the  contents  of  that  bandbox. 
The  air  of  the  studio  was  heavy  with  the  fragrance 
of  the  Easter  lilies,  and  he  went  about  opening  win- 
dows at  Joyce's  direction,  while  she  and  the  other 
girls  unwound  themselves  from  the  veils  in  which 
they  had  been  wrapped,  and  put  a  few  smoothing 
touches  to  their  wind-blown  hair.  Joyce  was  the 
first  to  come  back  to  the  studio.  She  carried  a  letter 
which  she  had  picked  up  in  the  hall. 

"  This  seems  to  be  a  day  for  letters,"  she  re- 
marked. "  This  is  a  good  thick  one  from  home." 
She  made  no  movement  to  open  it  then,  thinking 
to  read  it  aloud  after  Phil  had  taken  his  leave.  But 
when  Mary  joined  them,  and  he  seemed  absorbed 
in  the  highly  diverting  process  they  made  of  trying 
on  the  new  hat,  she  opened  the  envelope  to  glance 
over  the  first  few  pages.  She  read  the  first  para- 
graph with  one  ear  directed  to  the  amusing  repartee. 
Then  the  smile  suddenly  left  her  face,  and  with  a 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  213 

startled  exclamation  she  turned  back  to  re-read  it, 
hurrying  on  to  the  bottom  of  the  page. 

"  Oh,  what  is  it?"  cried  Mary  in  alarm.  Joyce 
had  looked  up  Math  a  groan,  her  face  white  and 
shocked.  She  was  trembling  so  that  the  letter  shook 
perceptibly   in  her  hand. 

"  There  has  been  an  accident  out  at  the  mines," 
she  answered,  trying  to  steady  her  voice,  "  and  Jack 
was  badly  hurt.  So  very  badly  that  mamma  didn't 
telegraph  us,  but  waited  to  see  how  it  would  ter- 
minate. Oh,  he's  better,"  she  hurried  to  add,  seeing 
Mary  grow  faint  and  white,  and  sit  down  weakly  on 
the  floor  beside  the  bandbox.  "  He  is  going  to  live, 
the  doctors  say,  but  they're  afraid  —  "  Her  voice 
faltered  and  she  began  to  sob.  "  They're  afraid  he'll 
be  a  cripple  for  life!    Never  walk  again!  " 

Throwing  herself  across  the  couch,  she  buried 
her  face  in  the  cushions,  crying  chokingly,  "  Oh,  I 
can't  bear  to  think  of  it!  Oh,  Jack!  how  could  such 
an  awful  thing  happen  to  you! " 

Sick  and  trembling,  Mary  sat  as  if  dazed  by  a 
blow  on  the  head,  her  stunned  senses  trying  to 
grasp  the  fact  that  some  awful  calamity  had  befallen 
them ;  that  out  of  a  clear  sky  had  dropped  a  deadly 
bolt  to  shatter  all  the  happiness  of  their  little  world. 
For  an  instant  the  thought  came  to  her  that  maybe 


214  MARY  WARE 

she  was  only  having  a  dreadful  dream,  and  in  a  few 
moments  would  come  the  blessed  relief  of  awaken- 
ing. But  instead  came  only  the  sickening  realization 
of  the  truth,  for  Joyce,  with  an  imploring  gesture, 
held  the  letter  out  to  Phil  for  him  to  read  aloud. 

Mrs.  Ware  had  written  as  bravely  as  she  could, 
trying  not  to  alarm  or  distress  them  unduly,  but 
there  could  be  no  disguising  or  softening  one  terrible 
fact.  Jack,  strong,  sinewy,  broad-shouldered  Jack, 
whose  strength  had  been  his  pride,  lay  as  helpless 
as  a  baby,  and  all  the  hope  the  physicians  could  give 
was  that  in  a  few  months  he  might  be  able  to  go 
about  in  a  wheeled  chair.  They  had  had  three  sur- 
geons up  from  Phcenix  for  a  consultation.  A 
trained  nurse  was  with  him  at  present  and  they 
must  not  worry.  Of  course  they  mustn't  think  of 
coming  home.  Joyce  could  do  most  good  where  she 
was,  if  later  on  they  should  have  to  depend  on  her 
partly,  as  one  of  the  bread-winners.  And  Mary 
must  make  the  most  of  the  rest  of  the  year  at  school. 
Jack  had  sent  the  check  for  the  balance  of  her  ex- 
penses only  the  morning  before  the  accident  oc- 
curred. 

Mary  waited  to  hear  no  more.  With  the  tears 
streaming  down  her  face,  and  her  lips  working  piti- 
fully, she  scrambled  up  from  the  floor,  and  ran  into 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  215 

the  next  room,  shutting  the  door  behind  her.  The 
hurt  was  too  deep  for  her  to  bear  another  moment, 
in  any  one's  presence.  She  must  go  off  with  it  into 
the  dark  alone. 

There  was  a  page  or  two  more,  giving  some 
details  of  the  accident.  Some  heavy  timbers  had 
fallen  while  they  were  making  some  extensions, 
and  Jack  had  been  crushed  under  them.  The  blow 
on  the  spine  had  caused  paralysis  of  both  limbs. 
When  Phil  finished  the  last  sentence,  he  sat  staring 
helplessly  at  the  floor,  wishing  he  could  think  of 
something  to  say ;  something  comforting  and  hope- 
ful, for  Joyce's  shoulders  still  heaved  convulsively, 
and  Betty  was  crying  quietly  over  by  the  window. 
But  he  could  find  no  grain  of  comfort  in  the  whole 
situation.  Mrs.  Ware  had  rejoiced  in  the  fact  that 
his  life  had  been  spared,  but  to  Phil,  death  seemed 
infinitely  preferable  to  the  crippled  helpless  half- 
existence  which  the  future  held  out  for  poor  Jack. 

Of  all  the  young  fellows  of  his  acquaintance,  he 
could  think  of  none  on  whom  such  a  blow  would 
fall  more  crushingly.  He  had  counted  so  much  on 
his  future.  Phil  got  up  and  began  to  pace  back  and 
forth  at  the  end  of  the  long  studio,  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  recalling  the  days  of  their  old  intimacy  on 
the  desert.     Scene  after  scene  came  up  before  him, 


216  MARY  WARE 

till  he  felt  a  tightening  of  the  throat  that  made  him 
set  his  teeth  together  grimly.  Then  Joyce  sat  up 
and  began  to  talk  about  him  brokenly,  with  gushes 
of  tears  now  and  then,  as  one  recalls  the  good  traits 
of  those  who  have  passed  out  of  life. 

"  He  was  so  little  when  papa  died,  but  he's  tried 
to  take  his  place  in  every  way  possible,  ever  since. 
So  unselfish  and  uncomplaining  —  always  taking  the 
brunt  of  everything!  You  know  how  it  was,  Phil. 
You  saw  him  a  thousand  times  giving  up  his  own 
pleasure  to  make  life  easier  for  us.  And  it  doesn't 
seem  right  that  just  when  things  were  getting 
where  he  could  reach  out  for  what  he  wanted  most, 
it  should  be  snatched  away  from  him !  " 

"  I  wish  Daddy  were  home,"  sighed  Phil.  "  I'd 
take  him  out  for  a  look  at  him.  I  can't  believe  that 
it  is  so  hopeless  as  all  that.  And  anyhow,  I've  al- 
ways felt  that  Daddy  could  put  me  together  again  if 
I  were  all  broken  to  bits.  He  has  almost  performed 
miracles  several  times  when  everybody  else  gave  the 
case  up.  But  he  won't  be  back  for  months  and 
maybe  a  whole  year." 

"  Oh,  it's  no  use  hoping,  when  the  three  best  sur- 
geons in  Phcenix  give  such  a  report,"  said  Joyce 
gloomily.  If  it  was  anything  but  his  spine,  it 
wouldn't  be  so  bad.    We've  just  got  to  face  the  sit- 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  21 7 

uation  and  acknowledge  that  it  means  he'll  be  a 
life-long  invalid.  And  I  know  he'd  rather  have  been 
killed  outright." 

"  And  it  was  just  before  his  accident,"  said  Betty, 
wiping  her  eyes,  "  that  he  wrote  to  me  so  jubilantly 
about  his  plans.  He  said  he  couldn't  help  being 
sanguine  over  them.  It  was  so  good  to  be  young 
and  strong  and  feel  that  your  muscle  was  equal  to 
the  strain  put  upon  it,  and  that  the  old  world  looked 
about  all  right  to  him  that  morning.  It  is  going  to 
be  such  a  disappointment  to  him  not  to  be  able  to 
send  Mary  back  to  school." 

"Poor  little  Mary!"  said  Phil.  "All  this  is 
nearly  going  to  kill  her.  She  is  so  completely 
wrapped  up  in  Jack,  I  am  afraid  that  it  will  make 
her  bitter." 

"Isn't  it  strange?"  asked  Betty.  "I  was  won- 
dering about  that  while  we  were  out  at  the  Inn  this 
evening.  She  was  in  such  high  spirits,  that  I 
thought  of  that  line  from  Moore: 

"  '  The  heart  that  is  soonest  awake  to  the  flowers, 
Is  always  the  first  to  be  touched  by  the  thorns,' 

and  thought  if  she  should  take  sorrow  as  intensely 
as  she  does  her  pleasures,  any  great  grief  would 
overwhelm  her." 


2l8  MARY  WARE 

They  had  been  discussing  the  situation  for  more 
than  an  hour,  when  the  door  from  the  bedroom 
opened,  and  Mary  came  out.  Her  eyes  were  red 
and  swollen  as  if  she  had  been  crying  a  week,  but 
she  was  strangely  calm  and  self-possessed.  She  had 
rushed  away  from  them  an  impetuous  child  in  an 
uncontrollable  storm  of  grief.  Now  as  she  came  in 
they  all  felt  that  some  great  change  had  taken  place 
in  her,  even  before  she  spoke.  She  seemed  to  have 
grown  years  older  in  that  short  time. 

"  I  am  going  home  to-morrow,"  she  announced 
simply.  "  I  would  start  to-night  if  it  wasn't  too  late 
to  get  the  Washington  train.  I  shall  have  to  go 
back  there  to  pack  up  all  my  things." 

"  But,  Mary,"  remonstrated  Joyce,  "  mamma  said 
not  to.  She  said  positively  we  were  to  stay  here 
and  you  were  to  make  the  most  of  what  is  left  to 
you  of  this  year  at  school." 

"  I  know,"  was  the  quiet  answer.  "  I've  thought 
it  all  over,  and  I've  made  up  my  mind.  Of  course 
you  mustn't  go  back.  For  no  matter  if  the  company 
does  pay  the  expenses  of  Jack's  illness  and  allows 
him  a  pension  or  whatever  it  was  mamma  called  it, 
for  awhile,  you  couldn't  make  fifty  cents  there  where 
you  could  make  fifty  dollars  here.  So  for  all  our 
sakes  you  ought  to  stay.     But  as  long  as  I  can't 


THE  LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  210, 

finish  my  course,  a  few  weeks  more  or  less  can't 
make  any  difference  to  me.  And  I  know  very  well 
I  am  needed  at  home." 

"  But  Jack  —  he'll  be  so  disappointed  if  you  don't 
get  even  one  full  year,"  argued  Joyce,  ivho  had 
never  been  accustomed  to  Mary's  deciding  anything 
for  herself.  Even  in  the  matter  of  hair-ribbons  she 
had  always  asked  advice  as  to  which  to  wear. 

"  Oh,  I  can  make  it  all  right  with  Jack,"  said 
Mary  confidently.  "  I  wouldn't  have  one  happy 
moment  staying  on  at  school  knowing  I  was  needed 
at  home.  And  I  am  needed  every  hour,  if  for  noth- 
ing more  than  to  keep  them  all  cheered  up.  When 
I  think  of  how  busy  Jack  has  always  been,  and  then 
those  awful  days  and  weeks  and  years  ahead  of  him 
when  he  can't  do  anything  but  lie  and  think  and 
'  worry,  I'm  afraid  he'll  almost  lose  his  mind." 

"  If  mamma  only  hadn't  been  so  decided,"  was 
Joyce's  dubious  answer.  "  It  does  seem  that  you  are 
right,  and  yet  —  we've  never  gone  ahead  and  done 
things  before  without  her  consent.  I  wish  we 
could  talk  it  over  with  her." 

"Well,  I  don't,"  persisted  Mary.  "I'm  going 
home  and  I'm  perfectly  sure  that  down  in  her  heart 
she'll  be  glad  that  I  took  matters  in  my  own  hands 


220  MARY    WARE 

and  decided  to  come  —  for  Jack's  sake  if  nothing 
else." 

"  Then  we'd  better  telegraph  her  to-night  —  " 

"  No,"  interrupted  Mary,  "  not  until  I'm  leaving 
Washington.  Then  it  will  be  too  late  for  her  to  stop 
me. 

"  Oh,  dear,  I  don't  know  what  to  do  about  it," 
sighed  Joyce  wearily,  passing  her  hand  over  her 
eyes. 

"  Just  help  me  gather  up  my  things,"  was  the 
firm  reply.  The  big  bandbox  still  stood  open  in  the 
middle  of  the  floor  and  the  hat  with  its  wreath  of 
white  lilacs  lay  atop  just  as  Mary  had  dropped  it. 
She  stooped  to  pick  it  up  with  a  pathetic  little 
smile  that  hurt  Phil  worse  than  tears,  and  stood 
looking  down  on  it  as  if  it  were  something  infinitely 
dear. 

"  The  last  thing  Jack  ever  gave  me,"  she  said  as 
if  speaking  to  herself.  "  It  doesn't  seem  possible 
that  it  was  only  this  afternoon  we  bought  it.  It 
seems  months  since  then  —  my  last  happy  day !  " 

Henrietta's  latch-key  sounded  in  the  lock  of  the 
front  door,  and  Phil  rose  to  go,  knowing  the  situa- 
tion would  all  have  to  be  explained  to  her.  No, 
there  was  nothing  he  could  do,  they  assured  him. 
Nothing  anybody  could  do.    And  promising  to  come 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  221 

around  before  train-time  next  morning  he  took  his 
leave,  heart-sick  over  the  tragedy  that  had  ruined 
Jack's  life,  and  would  always  shadow  the  little  fam- 
ily that  had  grown  as  dear  to  him  as  his  own. 


CHAPTER    XII 

THE   GOOD-BYE   GATE 

Fortunately  they  were  so  late  in  getting  to  the 
station  that  there  was  no  time  for  a  prolonged  leave- 
taking.  Phil  hurried  away  to  the  baggage-room  to 
check  their  trunks.  Henrietta  made  a  move  as  if  to 
follow.  Her  overwrought  sympathies  kept  her 
nervously  opening  and  shutting  her  hands,  for  she 
dreaded  scenes,  and  would  not  have  put  herself  in 
the  way  of  witnessing  a  painful  parting,  had  she  not 
thought  she  owed  it  to  Joyce  to  stand  by  her  to  the 
last. 

Joyce  noticed  the  movement,  and  divining  the 
cause,  said  with  a  little  smile,  as  she  laid  a  detaining 
hand  on  her  arm,  "  Don't  be  scared,  Henry.  We 
are  not  going  to  have  any  high  jinks,  are  we,  Mary. 
We  made  the  old  Vicar's  acquaintance  too  early  in 
the  game  and  have  been  practising  his  motto  too 
many  years  to  go  back  on  him  now.  We're  going 
to  keep  inflexible,  no  matter  what  happens.  Aren't 
we,  Mary?" 

22* 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  22$ 

For  several  minutes  Mary  had  been  seeing  things 
through  a  blur  of  tears,  which  came  at  the  thought 
of  what  a  long  parting  this  might  be.  There  was  no 
telling  when  she  would  see  Joyce  again.  It  might  be 
years.  But  she  answered  a  resolute  yes,  and  Joyce 
went  on. 

"  Why,  we  taught  it  even  to  Norman  when  he 
wasn't  more  than  a  baby.  '  Swallow  your  sobs,  and 
stiffen,'  we'd  say,  and  he'd  gulp  them  down  every 
time,  and  brace  up  like  a  little  soldier.  Oh,  if  I'd 
just  flop  and  let  myself  go  I  could  cry  myself  into 
a  shoestring  in  five  minutes.  But  thanks  to  early 
discipline  we're  not  going  to  do  it.  Are  we, 
Mary?" 

By  this  time  Mary  could  only  shake  her  head  in 
reply,  but  she  did  it  resolutely,  and  the  determination 
carried  her  safely  through  the  parting  with  Joyce. 
But  Phil  almost  broke  down  the  self-control  she 
was  struggling  to  maintain,  when  he  came  back  with 
the  checks  and  hurried  aboard  the  train  with  her 
and  Betty.  Taking  both  her  hands  in  his  he  looked 
down  with  both  voice  and  face  so  full  of  tender  sym- 
pathy, that  her  lips  quivered  and  her  eyes  filled  with 
tears. 

"You  brave  little  thing!  "  he  exclaimed  in  a  low 
tone.     "  If  there  is  ever  anything  that  I  can  do  to 


224  MARY  WARE 

make  it  easier,  let  me  know,  and  I'll  come.  Promise 
me  now.    You'll  let  me  know." 

"I  —  I  promise,"  she  answered,  faltering  over  the 
sob  that  rose  in  her  throat  as  she  tried  to  speak,  but 
smiling  bravely  up  at  him. 

With  one  more  hand-clasp  that  spoke  sympathy 
and  understanding  even  more  than  his  words  had 
done,  and  somehow  left  her  with  a  sense  of  being 
comforted  and  protected,  he  went  away.  But  half 
way  down  the  aisle  he  turned  and  dashed  back, 
drawing  a  little  package  from  his  pocket  as  he  came. 

"  Something  to  read  on  the  way,"  he  explained. 
"  Wait  till  you  get  to  that  lonesome  stretch  of 
desert."  Then  with  a  smile  that  she  carried  in  her 
memory  for  years,  he  said  once  more,  "  Good-bye, 
little  Vicar !    Remember,  I'll  come !  " 

He  swung  down  the  steps  at  the  front  end  of  the 
car  just  as  the  train  started,  and  through  the  open 
window  she  had  one  more  glimpse  of  him,  as  he 
stood  there  lifting  his  hat.  Farther  back,  at  the 
station  gate  Joyce  waited  with  her  arm  linked  in 
Henrietta's,  for  the  moment  when  Mary's  last 
glance  should  be  turned  to  seek  her.  She  met  it 
with  a  blithe  wave  of  her  handkerchief,  and  Mary 
waved  vigorously  in  response.  It  was  a  long  time 
before  she  turned  away  from  the  window.     When 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  225 

she  did  she  had  nearly  recovered  her  self-control, 
and  grateful  for  Betty's  considerate  silence,  she 
busied  herself  with  her  suit-case  a  few  minutes, 
fumbling  with  the  lock,  and  making  a  pretence  of 
repacking,  in  order  to  find  room  for  the  book  that 
Phil  had  brought. 

The  night  before,  in  the  first  numb  apathy  of  the 
shock,  it  had  seemed  to  her  that  nothing  mattered 
any  more.  Nothing  could  make  the  dreadful  state 
of  affairs  more  bearable;  but  now  she  acknowl- 
edged to  herself  that  some  things  did  help.  How 
wonderfully  comforting  Phil's  assurance  of  sym- 
pathy had  been;  the  silent  assurance  of  that  firm, 
tender  hand-clasp.  It  was  easier  to  be  brave  since 
he  had  called  her  so  and  expected  it  of  her. 

Betty,  in  a  seat  across  the  aisle,  opened  a  maga- 
zine, but  Mary  could  not  settle  down  to  read.  A 
nervous  unrest  kept  her  going  over  and  over  in  her 
mind,  as  she  had  done  through  the  previous  night, 
the  scenes  that  lay  ahead  of  her.  There  was  the 
packing,  and  she  checked  off  on  her  fingers  the  many 
details  that  she  must  be  sure  to  remember.  There 
were  those  borrowed  books  she  mustn't  forget  to 
return.  Her  scissors  were  in  Cornie's  room.  Miss 
Gilmer  had  her  best  basketry  patterns.  There  were 
so  many  things  that  finally  she  made  a  memorandum 


226  MARY   WARE 

of  them,  dully  wondering  as  she  did  so  how  she 
could  think  of  them  at  all.  One  would  have  sup- 
posed that  the  awful  disaster  that  was  continually 
in  her  thoughts  would  have  blotted  out  these  little 
commonplace  trivial  concerns.  But  they  didn't. 
She  couldn't  understand  it. 

Presently  the  sound  of  a  low  crooning  in  the  seat 
behind  her  made  her  glance  over  her  shoulder. 
An  old  coloured  mammy,  in  the  whitest  of  freshly 
starched  aprons  and  turbans,  was  rocking  a  child  to 
sleep  in  her  arms.  He  was  a  dear  little  fellow,  pink 
and  white  as  an  apple-blossom,  with  a  Teddy  bear 
hugged  close  in  his  arms.  One  furry  paw  rested  on 
his  dimpled  neck.  The  bit  of  Uncle  Remus  song 
the  nurse  was  singing  had  a  soothing  effect  on  him, 
but  it  fell  dismally  on  Mary's  ears : 

"  Oh,  don't  stay  long!    Oh,  don't  stay  late! 
My  honey,  my  love. 
Hit  ain't  so  mighty  fur  ter  de  Good-bye  Gate, 
My  honey,  my  love ! " 

"  The  Good-bye  Gate !  "  she  repeated  to  herself. 
That  was  what  they  had  come  to  now,  she  and 
Jack.  Not  a  little  wicket  through  which  one  might 
push  his  way  back  some  day,  but  a  great  barred 
thing  that  was  clanging  behind  them  irrevocably, 
shutting  them  away  for  ever  from  the  fair  road 


THE   LITTLE   COLONELS  CHUM  227 

along  which  they  had  travelled  so  happily.  Shut- 
ting out  even  the  slightest  view  of  those  far-off 
"  Delectable  Mountains,"  towards  which  they  had 
been  journeying.  In  the  face  of  Jack's  misfortune 
and  all  that  he  was  giving  up,  her  part  of  the  sacri- 
fice sank  into  comparative  insignificance.  Her  suf- 
fering for  him  was  so  great  that  it  dulled  the 
sharpness  of  her  own  renunciations,  and  even  dulled 
her  disappointment  for  Joyce.  The  year  in  Paris 
had  meant  as  much  to  her  as  the  course  at  War- 
wick Hall  had  meant  to  Mary. 

All  through  the  trip  she  sat  going  round  and 
round  the  same  circle  of  thoughts,  ending  always 
with  the  hopeless  cry,  "  Oh,  why  did  it  have  to  be  ? 
It  isn't  right  that  he  should  have  to  suffer  so !  " 
Once  when  the  train  stopped  for  some  time  to  take 
water  and  wait  on  a  switch  for  the  passing  of  a 
fast  express,  she  opened  her  suit-case  and  took  out 
her  journal  and  fountain-pen.  Going  on  with  the 
record  from  the  place  where  she  had  dropped  it  the 
day  before  when  Jack's  letter  interrupted  it,  she 
chronicled  the  receipt  of  the  check,  the  shopping 
expedition  that  followed,  and  the  gay  outing  after- 
ward in  the  touring-car.  Then  down  below  she 
wrote : 

"  But  now  I  have  come  to  the  Good-bye  Gate. 


223  MARY   WARE 

Good-bye  to  all  my  good  times.  So  good-bye,  even 
to  you,  little  book,  since  you  were  to  mark  only  the 
hours  that  shine.  Here  at  the  bottom  of  the  page  I 
must  write  the  words,  '  The  End.'  " 

When  they  reached  Warwick  Hall  she  was  too 
tired  to  begin  any  preparations  that  night  for  the 
longer  journey,  and  still  so  dazed  with  the  thought 
of  Jack's  calamity  to  be  keenly  alive  to  the  fact  that 
this  was  the  last  night  she  would  ever  spend  in  the 
beloved  room.  She  was  thankful  to  have  it  to  her- 
self for  these  last  few  hours,  and  thankful  when 
Betty  and  Madam  Chartley  finally  went  out  and  left 
her  alone.  She  was  worn  out  trying  to  keep  up  be- 
fore people  and  to  be  brave  as  they  bade  her.  It  was 
a  relief  to  put  out  the  light  and,  lying  there  alone  in 
the  dark,  cry  and  cry  till  at  last  she  sobbed  herself 
to  sleep. 

Not  till  the  next  morning  did  she  begin  to  feel 
the  wrench  of  leaving,  when  the  fresh  fragrance  of 
wet  lilacs  awakened  her,  blowing  up  from  the  old 
garden  where  all  the  sweetness  of  early  April  was 
astir.  Then  she  remembered  that  she  would  be  far, 
far  away  when  the  June  roses  bloomed  at  Com- 
mencement, and  that  this  was  the  last  time  she 
would  ever  be  wakened  by  the  blossoms  and  bird- 
calls of  the  dear  old  gard@n. 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  229 

She  sat  up  and  looked  around  the  room  from  one 
familiar  object  to  another,  oppressed  and  miserable 
at  the  thought  that  she  would  never  see  them  again. 
Then  her  glance  rested  on  Lloyd's  picture,  and  for 
once  the  make-believe  companionship  of  Lloyd's 
shadow-self  brought  a  comfort  as  deep  as  if  her 
real  self  had  spoken.  She  held  out  her  arms  to  it, 
whispering  brokenly : 

"  Oh,  you  understand  how  hard  it  is,  don't  you, 
dear?  You're  the  only  one  in  the  world  who  does, 
because  you  had  to  give  up  all  this,  too." 

Gazing  at  the  pictured  face  through  her  tears,  she 
recalled  how  Lloyd  had  met  her  disappointment, 
trying  to  live  each  day  so  unselfishly  that  she  could 
go  on,  stringing  the  little  pearls  on  her  rosary. 

"  If  you  could  do  it,  I  can  too,"  she  said  pres- 
ently. "  And  the  best  of  having  such  a  chum  is  I 
needn't  leave  you  behind  when  I  leave  school.  You 
are  one  thing  that  I  don't  have  to  give  up." 

That  picture  was  the  last  thing  she  put  into  her 
trunk.  She  left  it  hanging  on  the  wall  while  she 
did  all  the  rest  of  her  packing,  that  she  might  glance 
at  it  now  and  then.  It  helped  wonderfully  to  re- 
member that  Lloyd  had  had  the  same  experience. 
Madam  Chartley  came  in  while  she  was  in  the  midst 
of  her  preparations   for  leaving,  glad  to  find  her 


230  MARY   WARE 

making  them  with  her  usual  energy  and  interest. 
When  in  answer  to  her  offers  of  assistance  Mary  as- 
sured her  there  was  nothing  any  one  could  do,  she 
said,  "I'll  not  stay  then,  except  to  say  one  thing 
that  I  may  not  have  opportunity  for  later."  She 
paused  and  laid  her  hands  on  Mary's  shoulders, 
looking  down  at  her  searchingly  and  kindly. 

"  I  want  you  to  know  this  —  that  I  have  never 
had  a  pupil  whom  I  parted  from  as  reluctantly  as 
I  shall  part  from  you.  Your  enthusiasm  and  love 
of  school  have  been  a  joy  to  your  teachers  and  an 
inspiration  to  every  girl  in  Warwick  Hall.  If  it 
were  merely  a  matter  of  expense  I  would  not  let  you 
go,  but  under  the  circumstances  I  have  no  right  to 
interfere.  You  ought  to  go.  And  my  dear  little 
girl,  remember  this,  whenever  regrets  come  up  for 
the  school  days  brought  so  suddenly  to  a  close,  that 
school  is  only  to  prepare  us  to  meet  the  tests  of  life, 
and  already  you  have  met  one  of  its  greatest  — 
'  To  renounce  when  that  shall  be  necessary,  and  not 
be  embittered! '  And  you  are  doing  that  so  bravely 
that  I  want  you  to  know  how  much  I  admire  and 
love  you  for  it." 

To  Madam's  surprise  the  words  of  praise  did  not 
carry  the  comfort  she  intended.  Mary's  arms  were 
thrown  around  her  neck  and  a  tearful  face  hidden 


THE  LITTLE  COLONEL'S  CHUM  231 

on  her  shoulder,  as  leaning  against  her  she  sobbed, 
"  Oh,  Madam  Chartley !  I  wish  you  could  feel  that 
way  about  me,  but  honestly  I  haven't  stood  the  test. 
I  can  renounce  for  myself,  and  not  feel  bitter,  but 
I  can't  renounce  for  Jack !  It  makes  me  wild  when- 
ever I  think  of  all  he  has  to  give  up.  It  isn't  right ! 
How  could  God  let  such  an  awful  thing  happen  to 
him,  when  he  has  always  lived  such  a  beautiful  un- 
selfish life?" 

Drawing  her  to  a  seat  beside  the  window,  Madam 
sat  with  an  arm  around  her,  until  the  sobs  grew 
quiet,  and  then  began  to  answer  her  question  —  the 
same  old  cry  that  has  gone  up  from  stricken  souls 
ever  since  the  world  began.  And  Mary,  listening, 
felt  the  comfort  and  the  uplift  of  a  strong  faith  that 
had  learned  to  go  unfaltering  through  the  sorest 
trials,  knowing  that  out  of  the  worst  of  them  some 
compensating  good  should  be  wrested  in  the  end. 
For  months  afterwards,  whenever  that  bitter  cry 
rose  to  her  lips  again,  she  stilled  it  with  the  remem- 
brance of  those  words.  Sometime,  somehow,  even 
this  terrible  calamity  should  be  made  the  stepping- 
stone  to  better  things.  How  such  a  thing  could 
come  to  pass  Mary  could  not  understand,  but 
Madam's  faith  that  such  would  be  so,  comforted 
her,    It  was  as  if  one  little  glimmering  star  strug- 


232  MARY   WARE 

gled  out  through  the  blackness  of  the  night,  and  in 
the  light  of  that  she  plucked  up  courage  to  push  on 
hopefully  through  the  dark. 

That  afternoon  just  as  her  trunk  was  being  car- 
ried out,  the  'bus  drove  up,  bringing  back  its  first 
instalment  of  returning  pupils.  Cornie  Dean  was 
among  them,  and  Elise  and  A.O.  Mary,  looking 
out  of  the  window,  heard  the  familiar  voices,  and 
feeling  that  their  questions  and  sympathy  would  be 
more  than  she  could  bear,  caught  up  her  hat  and 
hand-baggage,  and  ran  over  to  Betty's  room  to  wait 
there  until  time  to  go. 

"  No,  I  can't  see  any  of  them,  please/'  she  begged, 
when  Betty  came  in  to  say  how  distressed  and 
shocked  they  all  were  to  hear  about  Jack,  and  to 
know  that  she  was  leaving  school.  They  were  all 
crying  over  it,  and  wanted  to  see  her,  if  only  for  a 
moment. 

"  No,"  persisted  Mary.  "  It  would  just  start  me 
all  off  again  to  hear  one  sympathetic  word,  and  my 
eyes  are  like  red  flannel  now.  I've  already  said 
good-bye  to  Madam,  and  I'm  going  to  slip  out  with- 
out speaking  to  another  soul." 

"  You'll  have  to  speak  to  Hawkins,"  said  Betty. 
"  For  he  is  lying  in  wait  for  you  with  such  a  box 
of  lunch  as  never  went  out  of  this  establishment 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  233 

before.  He  asked  Madam's  permission  to  put  it  up 
for  you  himself.  He  told  her  about  your  binding 
up  his  hands  the  day  the  chafing-dish  turned  over 
and  burned  him  so  badly,  and  about  the  letter  you 
wrote  for  one  of  the  maids  that  got  her  sister  into 
a  school  for  the  blind,  and  several  other  things, 
winding  up  with  '  There's  a  young  lady  with  a  'eart 
in  'er,  Ma'am ! '  " 

Betty  mimicked  his  accent  so  well  that  Mary 
laughed  for  the  first  time  since  her  return.  "  Well, 
he's  got  a  'eart  in  'im!"  she  answered,  "though  I 
never  would  have  imagined  it  the  day  I  made  my 
entrance  here.  He  was  like  a  grand,  graven  image. 
Oh,  Betty,  it  is  nice  to  know  that  people  like  you 
and  are  sorry  that  you  are  going.  Even  if  it  does 
make  you  feel  sort  of  weepy  it  takes  a  big  part  of 
the  sting  out  of  leaving." 

Betty  went  with  her  in  to  Washington,  and  stayed 
with  her  until  the  train  left.  Hawkins  was  the  only 
one  they  encountered  on  their  way  out,  and  Mary 
took  the  proffered  lunch-box  with  a  smile  that  was 
very  close  to  tears.  Her  voice  faltered  over  her 
words  of  thanks,  and  when  she  had  been  handed 
into  the  'bus  she  dared  not  trust  herself  to  look  back 
at  the  faithful  old  servitor  in  the  doorway.  Once, 
just  as  they  swung  around  the  curve  that  hid  the 


234  Ata&F  WARS 

beautiful  grounds  from  sight,  she  leaned  out  for  one 
more  look,  then  hastily  pulled  down  her  veil. 

At  the  station,  as  they  sat  waiting  for  her  train, 
Betty  said,  "  I'll  write  every  week  and  tell  you  all  the 
news,  but  don't  feel  that  you  must  answer  regularly. 
I  know  how  your  time  will  be  occupied.  But  I 
should  like  a  postal  now  and  then,  telling  me  how 
Jack  is.  You  know,"  she  went  on,  stooping  to  retie 
her  shoe,  "  he  and  I  have  been  corresponding  for 
some  time,  and  I  think  of  him  as  one  of  my  oldest 
and  best  friends.  I  shall  always  be  anxious  for 
news  of  him." 

Betty  could  fairly  feel  the  surprise  in  Mary's  face, 
even  though  she  was  stooping  forward  too  far  to 
see  it,  and  she  heard  with  inward  amusement  her 
astonished  exclamations.  "  Well,  of  all  things !  I 
didn't  know  you  were  writing  to  each  other !  Jack 
never  said  a  word  about  it,  and  yet  he  sent  you  a 
message  nearly  every  time  he  wrote  to  me !  " 

She  was  still  puzzling  about  it  when  her  train  was 
called,  and  she  had  to  take  leave  of  Betty.  All  too 
soon  the  last  familiar  face  was  out  of  sight,  and  the 
long,  lonely  journey  home  was  begun. 

It  was  near  the  close  of  the  third  day's  journey 
when  she  remembered  Phil's  book  and  took  it  out  of 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  235 

its  wrappings.  She  was  not  in  a  reading  humour, 
but  time  hung  heavy,  and  he  had  said  to  open  it 
when  she  reached  the  desert.  Besides,  she  was  a 
trifle  curious  to  see  what  kind  of  a  book  he  had 
chosen  for  her.  It  was  a  very  small  one.  She  could 
soon  skim  through  it. 

"  The  Jester's  Sword  "  was  the  title.  Not  a  very 
attractive  subject  for  any  one  in  her  mood,  she 
thought.  It  would  be  a  sorry  smile  at  best  that 
the  gayest  of  jesters  could  bring  to  her.  She  turned 
the  leaves  listlessly,  then  sat  up  with  an  air  of  at- 
tention. There  on  the  title-page  was  a  line  from 
Stevenson,  the  very  thing  Madam  Chartley  had  said 
to  her  the  day  she  left  Warwick  Hall.  "  To  re- 
nounce zvhen  that  shall  be  necessary,  and  not  be  em- 
bittered." 

Phil  had  chosen  wisely  after  all  if  his  little  tale 
were  to  tell  her  how  to  do  it.  Then  a  paragraph 
on  the  first  page  claimed  her  attention.  "Because 
he  zvas  bom  in  Mars'  month,  the  bloodstone  became 
his  signet,  sure  token  that  undaunted  courage  woidd 
be  the  jewel  of  his  soul." 

Why,  she  and  Jack  were  both  born  in  Mars' 
month,  and  each  had  a  bloodstone,  and  each  had  to 
answer  to  an  awful  call  for  courage.     It  was  dear 


236  MARY  WARE 

of  Phil  to  choose  such  an  appropriate  story.  Set- 
tling herself  comfortably  back  in  the  seat,  she  began 
to  read,  never  dreaming  what  a  difference  in  all  her 
after  life  the  little  tale  was  to  make. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

THE   JESTER'S   SWORD 

Because  he  was  bom  in  Mars'  month,  which  is 
ruled  by  that  red  war-god,  they  gave  him  the  name 
of  a  red  star  —  Aldebaran ;  the  red  star  that  is  the 
*eye  of  Taurus.  And  because  he  was  born  in  Mars' 
ijionth,  the  bloodstone  became  his  signet,  sure  token 
that  undaunted  courage  would  be  the  jewel  of  his 
soul. 

Now  all  his  brothers  were  as  stalwart  and  as 
straight  of  limb  as  he,  and  each  one's  horoscope 
Iheld  signs  foretelling  valorous  deeds.  But  Alde- 
baran's  so  far  out-blazed  them  all,  with  comet's 
trail  and  planets  in  most  favourable  conjunction, 
that  from  his  first  year  it  was  known  the  Sword  of 
Conquest  should  be  his.  This  sword  had  passed 
from  sire  to  son  all  down  a  line  of  kings.  Not  to 
the  oldest  one  always,  as  did  the  throne,  though  now 
and  then  the  lot  fell  so,  but  to  the  one  to  whom  the 
signs  all  pointed  as  being  worthiest  to  wield  it. 

So  from  the  cradle  it  was  destined  for  Aldebaran, 
237 


238  MARY   WARE 

and  from  the  cradle  it  was  his  greatest  teacher.  His 
old  nurse  fed  him  with  such  tales  of  it,  that  even  in 
his  play  the  thought  of  such  an  heritage  urged  him 
to  greater  ventures  than  his  mates  dared  take. 
Many  a  night  he  knelt  beside  his  casement,  gazing 
through  the  darkness  at  the  red  eye  of  Taurus,  whis- 
pering to  himself  the  words  the  old  astrologers  had 
written,  "As  Aldebaran  the  star  shines  in  the 
heavens,  so  Aldebaran  the  man  shall  shine  among 
his  fellows." 

Day  after  day  the  great  ambition  grew  within 
him,  bone  of  his  bone  and  strength  of  his  sinew, 
until  it  was  as  much  a  part  of  him  as  the  strong 
heart  beating  in  his  breast.  But  only  to  one  did  he 
give  voice  to  it,  to  the  maiden  Vesta,  who  had  al- 
ways shared  his  play.  Now  it  chanced  that  she,  too, 
bore  the  name  of  a  star,  and  when  he  told  her  what 
the  astrologers  had  written,  she  repeated  the  words 
of  her  own  destiny : 

"As  Vesta  the  star  keeps  watch  in  the  heavens 
above  the  hearths  of  mortals,  so  Vesta  the  maiden 
shall  keep  eternal  vigil  beside  the  heart  of  him  who 
of  all  men  is  the  bravest." 

When  Aldebaran  heard  that  he  swore  by  the 
bloodstone  on  his  finger  that  when  the  time  was 
ripe  for  him  to  wield  the  sword  he  would  show  the 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  239 

world  a  far  greater  courage  than  it  had  ever  known 
before.  And  Vesta  smiling,  promised  by  that  same 
token  to  keep  vigil  by  one  fire  only,  the  fire  that  she 
had  kindled  in  his  heart. 

One  by  one  his  elder  brothers  grew  up  and  went 
out  into  the  world  to  win  their  fortunes,  and  like  a 
restless  steed  that  frets  against  the  rein,  impatient 
to  be  off,  he  chafed  against  delay  and  longed  to  fol- 
low. For  now  the  ambition  that  had  grown  with 
his  growth  had  come  to  be  more  than  bone  of  his 
bone  and  strength  of  his  sinew.  It  was  an  all-con- 
suming desire  which  coursed  through  him  even  as 
his  heart's  blood;  for  with  the  years  had  come  an 
added  reason  for  the  keeping  of  his  youthful  vow. 
Only  in  that  way  could  Vesta's  destiny  be  linked 
with  his. 

When  the  great  day  came  at  last  for  the  Sword 
to  be  put  into  his  hands,  with  a  blare  of  trumpets 
the  castle  gates  flew  open,  and  a  long  procession  of 
nobles  filed  through.  To  the  sound  of  cheers  and 
ringing  of  bells,  Aldebaran  fared  forth  on  his  quest. 
The  old  king,  his  father,  stepped  down  in  the  morn- 
ing sun,  and  with  bared  head  Aldebaran  knelt  to 
receive  his  blessing.  With  his  hand  on  the  Sword 
he  swore  that  he  would  not  come  home  again,  until 
he  had  made  a  braver  conquest  than  had  ever  been 


24©  MARY  WARE 

made  with  it  before,  and  by  the  bloodstone  on  his 
finger  the  old  king  knew  that  Aldebaran  would  fail 
not  in  the  keeping  of  that  oath. 

With  the  godspeed  of  the  villagers  ringing  in  his 
ears,  he  rode  away.  Only  once  he  paused  to  look 
back,  when  a  white  hand  fluttered  at  a  casement,  and 
Vesta's  sorrowful  face  shone  down  on  him  like  a 
star.  Then  she,  too,  saw  the  bloodstone  on  his 
finger  as  he  waved  her  a  farewell,  and  she,  too,  knew 
by  that  token  he  would  fail  not  in  the  keeping  of  his 
oath. 

'Twas  passing  wonderful  how  soon  Aldebaran 
began  to  taste  the  sweets  of  great  achievement.  His 
name  was  on  the  tongue  of  every  troubador,  his 
deeds  in  every  minstrel's  song.  And  though  he 
travelled  far  to  alien  lands,  scarce  known  by  hear- 
say even  to  the  folk  at  home,  his  fame  was  carried 
back,  far  over  seas  again,  and  in  his  father's  court 
his  name  was  spoken  daily  in  proud  tones,  as  they 
recounted  all  his  honours. 

Young,  strong,  with  the  impetuous  blood  be- 
gotten of  success  tingling  through  all  his  veins,  he 
had  no  thought  that  dire  mishap  could  seize  on  him; 
that  pain  or  malady  or  mortal  weakness  could  pierce 
his  armour,  which  youth  and  health  had  girt  about 
him.     From  place  to  place  he  went,  wherever  there 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  241 

was  need  of  some  brave  champion  to  espouse  a  weak 
one's  cause.  It  mattered  not  who  was  arrayed 
against  him,  whether  a  tyrant  king,  a  dragon  breath- 
ing fire,  or  some  hideous  scaly  monster  that  preyed 
upon  the  villages.  His  Sword  of  Conquest  was  un- 
sheathed for  each;  and  as  his  courage  grew 
with  every  added  victory,  he  thirsted  for  some 
greater  foe  to  vanquish,  remembering  his  youthful 
vow. 

And  as  he  journeyed  on  he  pictured  often  to  him- 
self the  day  of  his  returning,  the  day  on  which  his 
vow  should  find  fulfilment.  How  wide  the  gates 
would  be  thrown  open  for  his  welcome !  How  loud 
would  swell  the  cheers  of  those  who  thronged  to  do 
him  honour!  His  dreams  were  always  of  that  tri- 
umphal entrance,  and  of  Vesta's  approving  smile. 
Never  once  the  shadow  of  a  thought  stole  through 
his  mind  that  it  might  be  far  otherwise.  Was  not 
he  born  for  conquest  ?  Did  not  the  very  stars  fore- 
tell success? 

One  night,  belated  in  a  mountain  pass,  he  sought 
the  shelter  of  a  shelving  rock,  and  with  his  mantle 
wrapped  about  him  lay  down  to  sleep.  Upon  the 
morrow  he  would  sally  forth  and  beard  the  Province 
Terror  in  his  stronghold;  would  challenge  him  to 
combat,  and  after  long  and  glorious  battle  would  rid 


242  MARY  WARE 

the  country  of  its  dreaded  foe.     Already  tasting 
victory,  he  fell  asleep,  a  smile  upon  his  lips. 

But  in  the  night  a  storm  swept  down  the  moun- 
tain pass  with  sudden  fury,  uprooting  trees  a  cen- 
tury old,  and  rending  mighty  rocks  with  sword 
thrusts  of  its  lightning.  And  when  it  passed  Aide- 
baran  lay  prone  upon  the  earth  borne  down  by 
rocks  and  fallen  trees.  Lay  as  if  dead  until  two 
passing  goat-herds  found  him  and  bore  him  down 
in  pity  to  their  hut. 

Long  weeks  went  by  before  the  fever  craze  and 
pains  began  to  leave  him,  and  when  at  last  he 
crawled  out  in  the  sun,  he  found  himself  a  poor  mis- 
shapen thing,  all  maimed  and  marred,  with  twisted 
back  and  face  all  drawn  awry,  and  foot  that  dragged. 
One  hand  hung  nerveless  by  his  side.  Never  more 
would  it  be  strong  enough  to  use  the  Sword.  He 
could  not  even  draw  it  from  its  scabbard. 

As  in  a  daze  he  looked  upon  himself,  thinking 
some  hideous  nightmare  had  him  in  its  hold. 
"  This  is  not  I! "  he  cried,  in  horror  at  the  thought. 
Then  as  the  truth  began  to  pierce  his  soul,  he  sat 
with  starting  eyes  and  lips  that  gibbered  in  cold 
fear,  the  while  they  still  persisted  in  their  fierce 
denial.     "  This  is  not  77  " 

Again  he  said  it  and  again  as  if  his  frenzied  words 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  243 

could  work  a  miracle  and  make  him  as  he  was  be- 
fore. Then  when  the  sickening  sense  of  his  calamity 
swept  over  him  like  a  flood  in  all  its  fulness,  he  cast 
himself  upon  the  earth  and  prayed  to  die.  Despair 
had  seized  him.  But  Death  comes  not  at  such  a 
call ;  kind  Death,  who  waits  that  one  may  have  a 
chance  to  rise  again  and  grapple  with  the  foe  that 
downed  him,  and  conquering,  wipe  the  stigma 
coward  from  his  soul. 

So  with  Aldebaran.  At  first  it  seemed  that  he 
could  not  endure  to  face  the  round  of  useless  days 
now  stretching  out  before  him.  An  eagle,  broken- 
winged  and  drooping  in  a  cage,  he  sat  within  the 
goat-herd's  hut  and  gloomed  upon  his  lot,  and 
cursed  the  vital  force  within  that  would  not  let  him 
die. 

To  fall  asleep  with  all  the  world  within  one's 
grasp  and  waken  empty-handed  —  that  is  small  bane 
to  one  who  may  spring  up  again,  and  by  sheer 
might  wrest  all  his  treasures  back  from  Fortune. 
But  to  wake  helpless  as  well  as  empty-handed,  the 
strength  for  ever  gone  from  arms  that  were  invinc- 
ible; to  crawl,  a  poor  crushed  worm,  the  mark  for 
all  men's  pity,  where  one  had  thought  to  win  the 
meed  of  all  men's  praise,  ah,  then  to  live  is  agony! 
Each  breath  becomes  a  venomed  adder's  sting. 


244  MARY   WARE 

Most  of  all  Aldebaran  thought  of  Vesta.  The 
stroke  that  marred  his  comeliness  and  took  his 
strength  had  robbed  him  of  all  power  to  win  his 
happiness.  It  was  written  "  by  the  hearth  of  him 
who  is  the  bravest  she  shall  keep  eternal  vigil."  As 
yet  he  had  not  risen  above  the  level  of  his  forbears' 
bravery,  only  up  to  it.  Now  'twas  impossible  to 
show  the  world  a  greater  courage,  shorn  as  he  was 
of  strength.  And  even  had  her  horoscope  willed 
otherwise,  and  she  should  come  to  him  all  rilled  with 
maiden  pity  to  share  his  ruined  hearth,  he  could  not 
say  her  yea.  His  man's  pride  rose  up  in  him, 
rebellious  at  the  thought  of  pity  from  one  in  whose 
sight  he  fain  would  be  all  that  is  strong  and  comely. 
Looking  down  upon  his  twisted  limbs,  the  pain  that 
racked  him  was  greater  torture  than  mere  flesh  can 
feel.  Although  'twas  casting  heaven  from  him,  he 
drew  his  mantle  closer,  hiding  his  disfigured  form, 
and  prayed  with  groans  and  writhings  that  she 
might  never  look  on  him  again.     So  days  went  by. 

There  came  a  time  when,  even  through  his  all- 
absorbing  thought  of  self,  there  pierced  the  con- 
sciousness that  he  no  longer  could  impose  upon  the 
goat-herds'  bounty.  Food  was  scarce  within  the 
hut,  and  even  though  he  groaned  to  die,  the  dawns 
brought  hunger.    So  at  the  close  of  day  he  dragged 


THE  LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  245 

him  down  the  mountainside,  thinking  that  under 
cover  of  the  dusk  he  would  steal  into  the  village  and 
seek  a  chance  to  earn  his  bread. 

But  as  he  neared  the  little  town  and  the  sound  of 
evening  bells  broke  on  his  ear,  and  lighted  windows 
marked  the  homes  where  welcome  waited  other 
men,  he  winced  as  from  a  blow.  This  was  the 
village  he  had  thought  to  enter  in  the  midst  of  loud 
acclaims,  its  brave  deliverer  from  the  Province 
Terror.  Then  every  window  in  the  hamlet  would 
have  blazed  for  him.  Then  every  door  would  have 
been  set  wide  to  welcome  Aldebaran,  the  royal  son 
of  kings,  fittest  to  bear  the  Sword  of  Conquest. 
And  now  Aldebaran  was  but  the  crippled  makeshift 
of  a  man,  who  could  not  even  draw  that  Sword  from 
out  its  scabbard;  at  whose  wry  features  all  must 
turn  away  in  loathing,  and  some  perchance  might 
even  set  the  dogs  to  snarling  at  his  heels,  in  haste 
to  have  him  gone. 

"  In  all  the  world,"  he  cried  in  bitterness,  "  there 
breathes  no  other  man  whom  Fate  hath  used  so 
cruelly!  Emptied  of  hope,  robbed  of  my  all,  life 
doth  become  a  prison-house  that  dooms  me  to  its 
lowest  dungeon!  Why  struggle  any  longer  'gainst 
my  lot?     Why  not  lie  here  and  starve,  and  thus 


246  MARY   WARE 

force  Death  to  turn  the  key,  and  break  the  manacles 
which  bind  me  to  my  misery?  " 

While  he  thus  mused„  footsteps  came  up  the 
mountainside,  a  lusty  voice  was  raised  in  song,  and 
before  he  could  draw  back  into  cover,  a  head  in  a 
fantastic  cap  appeared  above  the  bushes.  It  was  the 
village  Jester  capering  along  the  path  as  if  the  world 
were  thistledown  and  every  day  a  holiday.  But 
when  he  saw  Aldebaran  he  stopped  agape  and 
crossed  himself.    Then  he  pushed  nearer. 

Now  those  who  saw  the  Jester  only  on  a  market 
day  or  at  the  country  fair  plying  his  trade  of  merri- 
ment for  all  'twas  worth  knew  not  a  sage  was  hid 
behind  that  motley  or  that  his  sympathies  were 
tender  as  a  saint's.  Yet  so  it  was.  The  motto 
written  deep  across  his  heart  was  this :  "  To  ease  the 
burden  of  the  world!"  It  was  beyond  belief  how 
wise  he'd  grown  in  wheedling  men  to  think  no  load 
lay  on  their  shoulders.  Now  he  stood  and  gazed 
upon  the  prostrate  man  who  turned  away  his  face 
and  would  not  answer  his  low-spoken  words : 
"What  ails  thee,  brother?" 

It  boots  not  in  this  tale  what  wiles  he  used  to 
gain  Aldebaran's  ear  and  tongue.  Another  man 
most  surely  must  have  failed,  because  he  shrank 
from  pity  as  from  salt  rubbed  in  a  wound,  and  felt 


THE  LITTLE  COLONEL'S  CHUM  247 

that  none  could  hear  his  woeful  history  and  not  be- 
stow that  pity.  But  if  the  Jester  felt  its  throbs  he 
gave  no  sign.  Seated  beside  him  on  the  grass  he 
talked  in  the  light  tone  that  served  his  trade,  as  if 
Aldebaran's  woes  were  but  a  flight  of  swallows 
'cross  a  summer  sky,  and  would  as  soon  be  gone. 
And  when  between  his  quirks  he'd  drawn  the  piteous 
tale  entirely  from  him,  he  doubled  up  with  laughter 
and  smote  his  sides. 

"  And  I'm  the  fool  and  thou'rt  the  sage !  "  he 
gasped  between  his  peals  of  mirth.  "  Gadzooks ! 
Methinks  it  is  the  other  way  around.  Why,  look 
ye,  man!  Here  thou  dost  go  a-junketing  through 
all  the  earth  to  find  a  chance  to  show  unequalled 
courage,  and  when  kind  Fate  doth  shove  it  under- 
neath thy  very  nose,  thou  turn'st  away,  lamenting. 
I've  heard  of  those  who  know  not  beans  although 
the  bag  be  opened,  and  now  I  laugh  to  see  one  of 
that  very  kind  before  me." 

Then  dropping  his  unseemly  mirth  and  all  his 
wanton  raillery,  he  stood  up  with  his  face  a-shine, 
and  spake  as  if  he  were  the  heaven-sent  messenger 
of  hope. 

"  Rise  up !  "  he  cried.  "  Knowest  thou  not  it 
fakes  a  thousandfold  more  courage  to  sheathe  the 
sword  when  one  is  all  on  fire  for  action  than  to  go 


248  MARY   WARE 

forth  against  the  greatest  foe?  Here  is  thy  chance 
to  show  the  world  the  kingliest  spirit  it  has  ever 
known!  Here  is  a  phalanx  thou  mayst  meet  all 
single-handed  —  a  daily  struggle  with  a  host  of 
hurts  that  cut  thee  to  the  quick.  This  sheathed 
sword  upon  thy  side  will  stab  thee  hourly  with 
deeper  thrusts  than  any  adversary  can  give.  'Twill 
be  a  daily  'minder  of  thy  thwarted  hopes.  For 
foiled  ambition  is  the  hydra-headed  monster  of  the 
Lerna  marsh.  Two  heads  will  rise  for  every  one 
thou  severest.  'Twill  be  a  fight  till  death.  Art 
brave  enough  to  lift  the  gauntlet  that  Despair  flings 
down  and  wage  this  warfare  to  thy  very  grave?" 

Such  call  to  arms  seemed  mockery  as  Aldebaran 
looked  down  upon  his  twisted  limbs,  but  as  the 
bloodstone  on  his  finger  met  his  sight  his  kingly 
soul  leapt  up.  "  I'll  keep  the  oath !  "  he  cried,  and 
struggling  to  his  feet  laid  hand  upon  the  jewelled 
hilt  that  decked  his  side. 

"  By  sheathed  sword,  since  blade  is  now  denied 
me,"  he  swore.  "  I'll  win  the  future  that  my  stars 
foretold!" 

In  that  exalted  moment  all  things  seemed  possible, 
and  though  his  body  limped  as  haltingly  he  fol- 
lowed on  behind  his  new-found  friend,  his  spirit 
walked  erect,  and  faced  his  future  for  the  time,  un- 
daunted. 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  249 

His  merry- Andrew  of  a  host  made  festival  when 
they  at  last  came  to  his  dwelling;  lit  a  great  fire 
upon  the  hearth,  brewed  him  a  drink  that  warmed 
him  to  the  core,  brought  wheaten  loaves  and  set  a 
bit  of  savoury  meat  to  turning  on  the  spit. 

"  Ho,  ho !  "  he  laughed.  "  They  say  it  is  an  ill 
wind  that  blows  good  to  none.  Now  thou  dost 
prove  the  proverb.  The  tempest  that  didst  blow  thee 
from  thy  course  mayhap  may  send  me  on  my  way 
rejoicing.  I  long  have  wished  to  leave  this  land  and 
seek  the  distant  province  where  my  kindred  dwell, 
but  there  was  never  one  to  take  my  place.  And  when 
I  spake  of  going,  my  townsmen  said  me  nay.  'Twas 
quite  as  bad,  they  vowed,  as  if  the  priest  should 
suddenly  desert  his  parish,  with  none  to  shepherd 
his  abandoned  flock.  '  Who'll  cheer  us  in  our  dol- 
drums ? '  they  demanded.  '  Who'll  help  us  bear 
out  troubles  by  making  us  forget  them?  Thou 
canst  not  leave  us,  Piper,  until  some  other  merry 
soul  comes  by  to  set  our  feet  a-dancing.'  Now  thou 
art  come." 

"  Yes,  //  A  merry  soul  indeed !  "  Aldebaran  cried 
in  bitterness. 

"  Well,  maybe  not  quite  that,"  his  host  admitted. 
"  But  thou  couldst  pass  as  one.  Thou  couldst  at 
least  put  on  my  grotesque  garb,  couldst  learn  the 


250  MARY  WARE 

quips  and  quirks  by  which  I  make  men  laugh.  Thou 
wouldst  not  be  the  first  man  who  has  hid  an  aching 
heart  behind  a  smile.  The  tune  thou  pipest  may  not 
bring  thee  pleasure,  but  if  it  sets  the  world  to  danc- 
ing it  is  enough.  And,  too,  it  is  an  honest  way  to 
earn  thy  bread.     Canst  think  of  any  other?" 

Aldebaran  hid  his  face  within  his  hands.  "  No, 
no !  "  he  groaned.  "  There  is  no  other  way,  and  yet 
my  soul  abhors  the  thought,  that  I,  a  king's  son, 
should  descend  to  this !  The  jester's  motley  and  the 
cap  and  bells.    How  can  I  play  such  a  part?  " 

"  Because  thou  art  a  king's  son,"  said  the  Jester. 
"  That  in  itself  is  ample  reason  that  thou  shouldst 
play  more  royally  than  other  men  whatever  part 
Fate  may  assign  thee." 

Aldebaran  sat  wrapped  in  thought.  "  Well,"  was 
the  slow  reply  after  long  pause,  "  an  hundred  years 
from  now,  I  suppose,  'twill  make  no  difference  how 
circumstances  chafe  me  now.  A  poor  philosophy, 
but  still  there  is  a  grain  of  comfort  in  it.  I'll  take 
thy  offer,  friend,  and  give  thee  gratitude." 

And  so  next  day  the  two  went  forth  together. 
Aldebaran  showed  a  brave  front  to  the  crowd,  glad 
of  the  painted  mask  that  hid  his  features,  and  no 
one  guessed  the  misery  that  lurked  beneath  his 
laugh,  and  no  one  knew  what  mighty  tax  it  was 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  25 1 

upon  his  courage  to  follow  in  the  Jester's  lead  and 
play  buffoon  upon  the  open  street.  It  was  a  thing  he 
loathed,  and  yet,  'twas  as  the  Jester  said,  his  train- 
ing in  the  royal  court  had  made  him  sharp  of  wit 
and  quick  to  read  men's  minds ;  and  to  the  country- 
men who  gathered  there  agape,  around  him  in  the 
square,  his  keen  replies  were  wonderful  as  wizard's 
magic. 

And  when  he  piped  —  it  was  no  shallow  fluting 
that  merely  set  the  rustic  feet  a- jig,  it  was  a  strange 
and  stirring  strain  that  made  the  simplest  one  among 
them  stand  with  his  soul  a-tiptoe,  as  he  listened,  as 
if  a  kingly  train  with  banners  went  a-marching  by. 
So  royally  he  played  his  part,  that  even  on  that  first 
day  he  surpassed  his  teacher.  The  Jester,  jubilant 
that  this  was  so,  thought  that  his  time  to  leave  was 
near  at  hand,  but  when  that  night  they  reached  his 
dwelling  Aldebaran  tore  off  the  painted  mask  and 
threw  himself  upon  the  hearth. 

"  'Tis  more  than  flesh  can  well  endure !  "  he  cried. 
"  All  day  the  thought  of  what  I've  lost  was  like  a 
constant  sword-thrust  in  my  heart.  Instead  of 
deference  and  respect  that  once  was  mine  from  high 
and  low,  'twas  laugh  and  jibe  and  pointing  finger. 
And,  too,  (his  voice  grew  shrill  and  querulous)  "  I 
saw  young  lovers  straying  in  the  lanes  together. 


2$2  MARY   WARE 

How  can  I  endure  that  sight  day  after  day  when 
my  arms  must  remain  for  ever  empty?  And  little 
children  prattled  by  their  father's  side  no  matter 
where  I  turned.  I,  who  shall  never  know  a  little 
son's  caress  felt  like  a  starving  man  who  looks  on 
bread  and  may  not  eat.  Far  better  that  I  crawl 
away  from  haunts  of  men  where  I  need  never  be  tor- 
mented by  such  contrasts." 

The  Jester  looked  down  on  Aldebaran's  wan  face. 
It  was  as  white  and  drawn  as  if  he  had  been  tor- 
tured by  the  rack  and  thumbscrew,  so  he  made  no 
answer  for  the  moment.  But  when  the  fire  was 
kindled,  and  they  had  supped  the  broth  set  out  in 
steaming  bowls  upon  the  table,  he  ventured  on  a 
word  of  cheer. 

"  At  any  rate,"  he  said,  "  for  one  whole  day  thou 
hast  kept  thy  oath.  No  matter  what  the  anguish 
that  it  cost  thee,  from  sunrise  till  sunsetting  thou 
hast  held  Despair  at  bay.  It  was  the  bravest  stand 
that  thou  hast  ever  made.  And  now,  if  thou  hast 
lived  through  this  one  day,  why  not  another?  'Tis 
only  one  hour  at  a  time  that  thou  art  called  on  to 
endure.  Come!  By  the  bloodstone  that  is  thy 
birthright,  pledge  me  anew  thou'lt  keep  thy  oath 
until  the  going  down  of  one  more  sun." 

So  Aldebaran  pledged  him  one  more  day,   and 


THE  LITTLE  COLONEL'S  CHUM  253 

after  that  another  and  another,  until  a  fortnight 
slowly  dragged  itself  away.  And  then  because  he 
met  his  hurt  so  bravely  and  made  no  sign,  the  Jester 
thought  the  struggle  had  grown  easier  with  time, 
and  spoke  again  of  going  to  his  kindred. 

"  Nay,  do  not  leave  me  yet,"  Aldebaran  plead. 
"  Wouldst  take  my  only  crutch  ?  It  is  thy  cheerful 
presence  that  alone  upholds  me." 

"  Yet  it  would  show  still  greater  courage  if  thou 
couldst  face  thy  fate  alone,"  the  Jester  answered. 
"  Despair  cannot  be  vanquished  till  thou  hast  taught 
thyself  to  really  feel  the  gladness  thou  dost  feign. 
I've  heard  that  if  one  will  count  his  blessings  as  the 
faithful  tell  their  rosary  beads  he  will  forget  his 
losses  in  pondering  on  his  many  benefits.  Perchance 
if  thou  wouldst  try  that  plan  it  might  avail." 

So  Aldebaran  went  out  determined  to  be  glad  in 
heart  as  well  as  speech,  if  so  be  it  he  could  find 
enough  of  cheer.  "  I  will  be  glad,"  he  said,  "  be- 
cause the  morning  sun  shines  warm  across  my  face." 
He  slipped  a  golden  beam  upon  his  memory  string. 

"  I  will  be  glad  because  that  there  are  diamond 
sparkles  on  the  grass  and  larks  are  singing  in  the 
sky."    A  dew-drop  and  a  bird's  trill  for  his  rosary. 

"  I  will  be  glad  for  bread,  for  water  from  the 
spring,  for  eyesight  and  the  power  to  smell  the  bud- 


254  MARY   WARE 

ding  lilacs  by  the  door;  for  friendly  greetings  from 
the  villagers." 

A  goodly  rosary,  symbol  of  all  the  things  for 
which  he  should  be  glad,  was  in  his  hand  at  close  of 
day.  He  swung  it  gaily  by  the  hearth  that  night, 
recounting  all  his  blessings  till  the  Jester  thought, 
"  At  last  he's  found  the  cure." 

But  suddenly  Aldebaran  flung  the  rosary  from 
him  and  hid  his  face  within  his  hands.  "  'Twill 
drive  me  mad !  "  he  cried.  "  To  go  on  stringing 
baubles  that  do  but  set  my  mind  the  firmer  on  the 
priceless  jewel  I  have  lost.  May  heaven  forgive 
me !  I  am  not  really  glad.  'Tis  all  a  hollow  mock- 
ery and  pretence !  " 

Then  was  the  Jester  at  his  wit's  end  for  reply.  It 
was  a  welcome  sound  when  presently  a  knocking 
at  the  door  broke  on  the  painful  silence.  The  visitor 
who  entered  was  an  aged  friar  beseeching  alms  at 
every  door,  as  was  the  custom  of  his  brotherhood, 
with  which  to  help  the  sick  and  poor.  And  while  the 
Jester  searched  within  a  chest  for  some  old  gar- 
ments he  was  pleased  to  give,  he  bade  the  friar  draw 
up  to  the  hearth  and  tarry  for  their  evening  meal, 
which  then  was  well-nigh  ready.  The  friar,  glad  to 
accept  the  hospitality,  spread  out  his  lean  hands  to 
the  blaze,  and  later,  when  the  three  sat  down  to- 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  255 

gether,  warmed  into  such  a  cheerfulness  of  speech 
that  Aldebaran  was  amazed. 

"  Surely  thy  lot  is  hard,  good  brother,"  he  said, 
looking  curiously  into  the  wrinkled  face.  "  Hum- 
bling thy  pride  to  beg  at  every  door,  forswearing 
thine  own  good  in  every  way  that  others  may  be 
fed,  and  yet  thy  face  speaks  of  an  inward  joy.  I 
pray  thee  tell  me  how  thou  hast  found  happiness." 

"  By  never  going  in  its  quest/'  the  friar  answered. 
"  Long  years  ago  I  learned  a  lesson  from  the  stars. 
Our  holy  Abbot  took  me  out  one  night  into  the  quiet 
cloister,  and  pointing  to  the  glittering  heavens 
showed  me  my  duty  in  a  way  I  never  have  forgot. 
I  had  grown  restive  in  my  lot  and  chafed  against  its 
narrow  round  of  cell  and  cloister.  But  in  a  word  he 
made  me  see  that  if  I  stepped  aside  from  that  ap- 
pointed path,  merely  for  mine  own  pleasure,  'twould 
mar  the  order  of  God's  universe  as  surely  as  if  a 
planet  swerved  from  its  eternal  course. 

"  '  No  shining  lot  is  thine,'  he  said.  '  Yet  neither 
have  the  stars  themselves  a  light.  They  but  reflect 
the  Central  Sun.  And  so  mayst  thou,  while  swing- 
ing onward,  faithful  to  thy  orbit,  reflect  the  light  of 
heaven  upon  thy  fellow  men.' 

"  Since  then  I've  had  no  need  to  go  a-seeking  hap- 
piness, for  bearing  cheer  to  others  keeps  my  own 


256  MARY  WARE 

heart  a-shine.  I  pass  the  lesson  on  to  thee,  good 
friend.  Remember,  men  need  laughter  sometimes 
more  than  food,  and  if  thou  hast  no  cheer  thyself 
to  spare,  why,  thou  mayst  go  a-gathering  it  from 
door  to  door  as  I  do  crusts,  and  carry  it  to  those 
who  need." 

Long  after  the  good  friar  had  supped  and  gone, 
Aldebaran  sat  in  silence.  Then  crossing  to  the  tiny 
casement  that  gave  upon  the  street,  he  stood  and 
gazed  up  at  the  stars.  Long,  long  he  mused,  fitting 
the  friar's  lesson  to  his  own  soul's  need,  and  when  he 
turned  away,  the  old  astrologer's  prophecy  had 
taken  on  new  meaning. 

"  As  Aldebaran  the  star  shines  in  the  heavens  " 
(no  light  within  itself,  but  borrozving  from  the  Cen- 
tral Sun),  "so  Aldebaran  the  man  might  shine 
among  his  fellows."  (Beggared  of  joy  himself,  yet 
flashing  its  reflection  athwart  the  lives  of  others.) 

When  next  he  went  into  the  town  he  no  longer 
shunned  the  sights  that  formerly  he'd  passed  with 
face  averted,  for  well  he  knew  that  if  he  would 
shed  joy  and  hope  on  others  he  must  go  to  places 
where  they  most  abound.  What  matter  that  the 
thought  of  Vesta  stabbed  him  nigh  to  madness  when 
he  looked  on  hearth-fires  that  could  never  blaze  for 
him  ?  With  courage  almost  more  than  human  he  put 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  257 

that  fond  ambition  out  of  mind  as  if  it  were  another 
sword  he'd  learned  to  sheathe.  At  first  it  would 
not  stay  in  hiding,  but  flew  the  scabbard  of  his  will 
to  thrust  him  sore  as  often  as  he  put  it  from  him. 
But  after  awhile  he  found  a  way  to  bind  it  fast,  and 
when  he'd  found  that  way  it  gave  him  victory  over 
all. 

A  little  child  came  crying  towards  him  in  the 
market-place,  its  world  a  waste  of  woe  because  the 
toy  it  cherished  had  been  broken  in  its  play.  Alde- 
baran  would  have  turned  aside  on  yesterday  to  press 
the  barbed  thought  still  deeper  in  his  heart  that  he 
had  been  denied  the  joy  of  fatherhood.  But  now 
he  stooped  as  gently  as  if  he  were  the  child's  own 
sire  to  wipe  its  tears  and  soothe  its  sobs.  And  when 
with  skilful  fingers  he  restored  the  toy,  the  child 
bestowed  on  him  a  warm  caress  out  of  its  boundless 
store. 

He  passed  on  with  his  pulses  strangely  stirred. 
'Twas  but  a  crumb  of  love  the  child  had  given, 
yet,  as  Aldebaran  held  it  in  his  heart,  behold  a 
miracle !  It  grew  full-loaf,  and  he  would  fain  divide 
it  with  all  hungering  souls!  So  when  a  stone's 
throw  farther  on  he  met  a  man  well-nigh  distraught 
from  many  losses,  he  did  not  say  in  bitterness  as 
once  he  would  have  done,  that  'twas  the  common  lof 


258  MARY  WARE 

of  mortals;  to  look  on  him  if  one  would  know  the 
worst  that  Fate  can  do.  Nay,  rather  did  he  speak  so 
bravely  of  what  might  still  be  wrung  from  life 
though  one  were  maimed  like  he,  that  hope  sprang 
up  within  his  hearer  and  sent  him  on  his  way  with 
face  a-shine. 

That  grateful  smile  was  like  a  revelation  to 
Aldebaran,  showing  him  he  had  indeed  the  power 
belonging  to  the  stars.  Beggared  of  joy,  no  light 
within  himself,  yet  from  the  Central  Sun  could  he 
reflect  the  hope  and  cheer  that  made  him  as  the  eye 
of  Taurus  'mong  his  fellows. 

The  weeks  slipped  into  months,  months  into  years. 
The  Jester  went  his  way  unto  his  kindred  and  never 
once  was  missed,  because  Aldebaran  more  than  filled 
his  place.  In  time  the  town  forgot  it  ever  had  an- 
other Jester,  and  in  time  Aldebaran  began  to  feel 
the  gladness  that  he  only  feigned  before. 

And  then  it  came  to  pass  whenever  he  went  by 
men  felt  a  strange,  strength-giving  influence  radiat- 
ing from  his  presence,  —  a  sense  of  hope.  One 
could  not  say  exactly  what  it  was,  it  was  so  fleeting, 
so  intangible,  like  warmth  that  circles  from  a  brazier, 
or  perfume  that  is  wafted  from  an  unseen  rose. 

Thus  he  came  down  to  death  at  last,  and  there 
was  dole  in  all  the  Province,  so  that  pilgrims,  jour- 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  259 

neying  through  that  way,  asked  when  they  heard  his 
passing-bell,  "  What  king  is  dead,  that  all  thus  do 
him  reverence  ?  " 

"  'Tis  but  our  Jester,"  one  replied.  "  A  poor 
maimed  creature  in  his  outward  seeming,  and  yet  so 
blithely  did  he  bear  his  lot,  it  seemed  a  kingly  spirit 
dwelt  among  us,  and  earth  is  poorer  for  his  going." 

All  in  his  motley,  since  he'd  willed  it  so,  they 
laid  him  on  his  bier  to  bear  him  back  again  unto  his 
father's  house.  And  when  they  found  the  Sword 
of  Conquest  hidden  underneath  his  mantle,  they 
marvelled  he  had  carried  such  a  treasure  with  him 
through  the  years,  all  unbeknown  even  to  those  who 
walked  the  closest  at  his  side. 

When,  after  many  days,  the  funeral  train  drew 
through  the  castle  gate,  the  king  came  down  to 
meet  it.  There  was  no  need  of  blazoned  scroll  to 
tell  Aldebaran's  story.  All  written  in  his  face  it  was, 
and  on  his  scarred  and  twisted  frame;  and  by  the 
bloodstone  on  his  finger  the  old  king  knew  his  son 
had  failed  not  in  the  keeping  of  his  oath.  More 
regal  than  the  royal  ermine  seemed  his  motley  now. 
More  eloquent  the  sheathed  sword  that  told  of  years 
of  inward  struggle  than  if  it  bore  the  blood  of 
dragons,  for  on  his  face  there  shone  the  peace  that 
comes  alone  of  mighty  triumph. 


2<5o  MARY   WARE 

The  king  looked  round  upon  his  nobles  and  his 
stalwart  sons,  then  back  again  upon  Aldebaran,  ly- 
ing in  silent  majesty. 

"  Bring  royal  purple  for  the  pall,"  he  faltered, 
"  and  leave  the  Sword  of  Conquest  with  him !  No 
other  hands  will  ever  be  found  worthier  to  claim 
it!" 

That  night  when  tall  white  candles  burned  about 
him  there  stole  a  white-robed  figure  to  the  flower- 
strewn  bier.  'Twas  Vesta,  decked  as  for  a  bridal, 
her  golden  tresses  falling  round  her  like  a  veil. 
They  found  her  kneeling  there  beside  him,  her  face 
like  his  all  filled  with  starry  light,  and  round  them 
both  was  such  a  wondrous  shining,  the  watchers 
drew  aside  in  awe. 

"  'Tis  as  the  old  astrologers  foretold,"  they  whis- 
pered. "  Her  soul  hath  entered  on  its  deathless 
vigil.  In  truth  he  was  the  bravest  that  this  earth 
has  ever  known." 

The  porter  was  lighting  the  lamps  when  Mary 
finished  reading.  There  was  one  directly  above  her. 
She  moved  her  hand  so  that  the  light  fell  on  her 
zodiac  ring,  and  sat  turning  it  this  way  and  that  to 
watch  the  dull  gleams.  By  the  bloodstone  on  her 
finger  she  was  vowing  that  her  courage  should  fail 
not  in  helping  Jack  "  pick  up  the  gauntlet  which 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  261 

Despair  filing  down,  and  wage  the  warfare  to  his 
very  grave." 

All  the  way  through  the  story  she  had  read  Jack 
for  Aldebaran,  and  it  should  be  her  part  to  play  the 
role  of  the  Jester  who  had  led  him  back  to  hope. 
She  opened  the  book  again  at  the  sentence,  "  The 
motto  written  deep  across  his  heart  was  this :  '  To 
ease  the  burden  of  the  world' "  Henceforth  that 
should  be  her  aim  in  life,  to  ease  Jack's  burden.  To- 
gether, "  by  sheathed  sword  since  blade  was  now 
denied  him,"  they  would  prove  his  right  to  the 
Sword  of  Conquest. 

Some  great  load  seemed  to  lift  itself  from  her  own 
shoulders  as  she  made  this  resolution.  She  was 
glad  that  she  had  been  born  in  Mars'  month.  She 
was  glad  that  this  little  story  had  fallen  in  her  way. 

It  gave  her  hope  and  courage.  Beggared  of  joy 
himself,  Jack  should  yet  be  "  as  the  eye  of  Taurus 
'mong  his  fellows." 


CHAPTER   XIV 

BACK   AT   LONE -ROCK 

All  the  rest  of  the  way  to  Lone-Rock,  Mary's 
waking  moments  were  spent  in  anticipating  her  ar- 
rival and  planning  diversions  for  the  days  to  follow. 
Now  that  she  was  so  near,  she  could  hardly  wait 
to  see  the  family.  The  seven  months  that  she  had 
been  away  seemed  seven  years,  judging  by  her 
changed  outlook  on  life.  She  felt  that  she  had  gone 
away  a  mere  child,  and  that  she  was  coming  back, 
years  old  and  wiser.  She  wondered  if  they  would 
notice  any  difference  in  her. 

That  Mrs.  Ware  did,  was  evident  from  their  mo- 
ment of  greeting.  Never  before  had  she  broken 
down  and  sobbed  on  Mary's  shoulder  as  she  did 
now.  Always  she  had  been  the  comforter  and  Mary 
the  one  to  be  consoled,  but  for  a  few  moments  their 
positions  were  reversed.  Conscious  that  her  com- 
ing had  lifted  a  burden  from  her  mother's  shoul- 
ders, the  burden  of  enduring  her  anxiety  alone,  she 
tiptoed  into  Jack's  room,  ready  to  begin  playing  the 

262 


OUT    ON    THE     PORCH    SHE    HEARD    FROM    NORMAN    HOW    IT    HAD 
HAPPENED." 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  263 

Jester  at  once  with  some  merry  speech  which  she 
was  sure  would  bring  a  smile. 

But  he  was  lying  asleep,  and  the  jest  died  on  her 
lips  as  she  stood  and  gazed  at  him.  She  had  ex- 
pected him  to  look  ill,  but  his  face,  white  and  drawn 
with  great  dark  shadows  under  his  closed  eyes,  was 
so  much  ghastlier  than  she  had  pictured,  that  it  was 
a  shock  to  find  him  so.  She  stole  out  of  the  room 
again  to  the  sunny  little  back  porch,  as  sick  at  heart 
as  if  she  had  seen  him  lying  in  his  coffin.  He  was 
no  more  like  the  strong  jolly  big  brother  she  had 
left,  than  the  silent  shadow  of  him.  She  was  thank- 
ful that  her  first  sight  of  him  had  been  while  he  was 
asleep.  Otherwise  she  must  have  betrayed  her  sur- 
prise and  distress. 

Out  on  the  porch  she  heard  from  Norman  how  it 
had  happened.  Jack  had  seen  the  danger  that 
threatened  two  of  the  workmen,  and  had  sprung 
forward  with  a  warning  cry  in  time  to  push  them 
out  of  the  way,  but  had  been  caught  himself  by 
the  falling  timbers.  The  miners  had  always  liked 
Jack,  Norman  told  her.  He  could  do  anything  with 
them.  And  now  they  would  get  down  and  crawl 
for  him  if  it  would  do  any  good. 

From  her  mother  and  the  nurse  Mary  heard 
about  the  operation  that  had  been  made  to  relieve 


264  MARY   WARE 

the  pressure  on  the  spinal  cord.  It  seemed  success- 
ful as  far  as  it  went.  They  could  not  hope  to  do 
more  than  to  make  it  possible  for  him  to  sit  up  in  a 
wheeled  chair.  The  injury  had  been  of  such  a  pe- 
culiar character  that  they  were  fortunate  to  ac- 
complish even  that  much.  It  would  be  several 
weeks  before  he  could  attempt  it.  Jack  did  not 
know  yet  how  seriously  he  had  been  injured.  They 
were  afraid  to  tell  him  until  he  was  stronger.  The 
Company  was  paying  all  the  expenses  of  his  illness, 
and  there  was  an  accident  insurance. 

At  first  Mary  insisted  on  sending  away  Huldah, 
the  faithful  woman  who  had  been  the  maid  of  all 
work  in  her  absence,  protesting  that  "  a  penny  saved 
was  a  penny  earned,"  and  that  she  herself  was 
amply  able  to  do  the  work,  and  that  she  could  econ- 
omize even  if  she  couldn't  bring  in  any  money  to 
the  family  treasury.  But  she  was  soon  persuaded 
of  the  wisdom  of  keeping  her.  The  nurse  was  to 
leave  as  soon  as  Jack  was  able  to  sit  up,  and  Mary 
would  have  her  hands  full  then.  He  would  need 
constant  attendance  at  first,  the  nurse  told  her,  and 
since  he  could  never  take  any  exercise,  only  daily 
massage  would  keep  up  his  strength. 

"  I  shall  begin  teaching  you  how  to  give  it  just 
as  soon  as  he  rallies  a  little  more/'  the  nurse  prom- 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  265 

ised.  "  You  will  have  to  be  both  hands  and  feet  for 
him  for  many  a  week  to  come,  poor  boy,  and  feet 
always.  It  is  good  that  you  are  so  strong  and  un- 
tiring yourself." 

For  awhile  Mary  went  about  feeling  like  a  visitor, 
since  there  was  little  for  her  to  do  either  in  kitchen 
or  sick-room.  Jack  had  not  yet  reached  the  stage 
when  he  needed  amusement.  He  seemed  glad  that 
she  was  home,  and  his  eyes  followed  her  wistfully 
about  the  room,  but  he  did  not  attempt  to  talk  much. 
Sometimes  the  emptiness  of  the  hours  palled  on  her 
till  she  felt  that  she  could  not  endure  it.  She  wrote 
long  letters  to  Joyce  and  Betty  and  all  the  school- 
girls with  whom  she  wanted  to  keep  up  a  correspond- 
ence. She  mended  everything  she  could  find  that 
needed  mending,  and  she  spent  many  hours  telling 
her  mother  all  that  had  happened  in  her  absence. 
But  for  once  in  her  life  her  usual  resources  failed 
her. 

The  little  mining  camp  of  Lone-Rock  was  high 
up  in  the  hills,  so  that  April  there  was  not  like  the 
Aprils  she  had  known  at  the  Wigwam.  There  were 
still  patches  of  snow  under  the  pine  trees  above  the 
camp.  But  the  stir  of  spring  was  in  the  air,  and 
every  afternoon,  while  Mrs.  Ware  was  resting, 
Mary  slipped  away  for  a  long  walk.    Sometimes  she 


266  MARY  WARE 

would  scramble  up  the  hill-side  to  the  great  over- 
hanging rock  which  gave  the  place  its  name,  and  sit 
looking  down  at  the  tiny  village  below.  It  was  just 
a  cluster  of  miners'  shacks,  most  of  them  inhabited 
by  Mexicans.  There  were  the  Company's  stores 
and  the  post-office,  and  away  at  the  farther  end  of 
the  one  street  were  the  houses  of  the  few  American 
families  who  had  found  their  way  to  Lone-Rock, 
either  on  account  of  the  mines  or  the  healthful  cli- 
mate of  the  pine-covered  hills.  She  could  distin- 
guish the  roof  of  their  own  cottage  among  them, 
and  the  chimney  of  the  little,  unpainted  school- 
house. 

She  wondered  what  the  outcome  of  all  their 
troubles  was  to  be.  She  couldn't  go  on  in  this  aim- 
less way,  day  after  day.  She  must  find  something 
to  do  that  would  pay  her  a  salary,  and  it  must  be 
something  that  she  could  do  at  home,  where  she 
would  be  needed  sorely  as  soon  as  the  nurse  left. 
Then  she  would  go  over  and  over  the  same  little 
round.  She  might  teach.  She  knew  that  she  could 
pass  the  examination  for  a  license,  but  the  school 
was  already  supplied  with  a  competent  teacher,  of 
many  years'  experience,  whom  the  trustees  would 
undoubtedly  prefer  to  a  seventeen  year  old  girl  just 
fresh  from  school  herself. 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  2O7 

There  was  stenography  —  that  was  something 
she  could  master  by  herself,  and  at  home,  but  there 
was  already  a  stenographer  in  the  Company  office, 
and  there  was  no  other  place  for  one  in  Lone-Rock. 
Round  and  round  she  went  like  one  in  a  treadmill, 
always  to  come  back  to  the  starting  point,  that  there 
was  nothing  she  could  do  in  Lone-Rock  to  earn 
money,  and  she  must  earn  some,  and  she  could  not 
go  away  from  home.  Sometimes  the  hopelessness 
of  the  situation  gave  her  a  wild  caged  feeling,  as 
if  she  must  beat  herself  against  the  bars  of  circum- 
stance and  make  them  give  way  for  her  pent-up 
forces  to  find  an  outlet. 

The  only  thing  that  Mrs.  Ware  could  suggest  was 
that  they  might  advertise  in  the  Phoenix  papers  for 
summer  boarders.  She  had  been  told  that  the  year 
before  several  camping  parties  had  pitched  tents 
near  Lone-Rock,  and  they  had  said  that  if  therewere 
a  good  boarding  place  in  the  village  it  could  be 
filled  to  overflowing  with  a  desirable  class  of  guests. 

So  Mary  spent  an  evening,  pencil  in  hand,  calcu- 
lating the  probable  expenses  and  income  from  such 
a  venture.  They  could  not  go  into  it  on  a  large 
scale,  the  house  was  too  small.  The  cost  of  living 
was  high  in  Lone-Rock,  and  the  market  limited  to 
the  canned  goods  on  the  shelves  of  the  Company's 


268  MARY   WARE 

stores.  Her  careful  figuring  proved  that  there 
would  be  so  little  profit  in  the  undertaking  that  it 
would  not  pay  to  try.  But  the  evening  was  not  lost. 
It  suggested  the  vegetable  garden,  which  with  Nor- 
man's help  she  proceeded  to  start  the  very  next 
morning. 

Plain  spading  in  unbroken  sod  is  not  exactly 
what  a  boy  of  thirteen  would  call  sport,  and  Nor- 
man started  at  the  task  with  little  enthusiasm.  But 
Mary,  following  vigorously  in  his  wake  with  hoe 
and  rake,  spurred  him  on  with  visions  of  the  good 
things  they  should  have  to  eat  and  the  fortune  they 
should  make  selling  fresh  garden  stuff  to  the  sum- 
mer campers,  till  he  caught  some  of  her  indomitable 
spirit,  and  really  grew  interested  in  the  work.  Mary 
confined  her  energies  to  the  vegetables  which  she 
knew  would  grow  in  that  locality,  and  which  would 
be  sure  to  find  a  ready  sale,  but  Norman  gradually 
enlarged  the  borders  to  make  experiments  of  his 
own,  till  all  the  lot  back  of  the  house  was  a  well 
tilled  garden. 

If  it  had  done  nothing  but  keep  her  employed  out 
of  doors  many  hours  of  the  day  it  would  have  been 
well  worth  the  effort,  for  it  kept  her  from  brooding 
over  her  troubles,  and  largely  took  away  the  caged 
feeling  which  had  made  her  so  desperate.     As  the 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  269 

fresh  green  shoots  came  up  through  the  soil  and  she 
counted  the  long  straight  rows,  she  counted  also  the 
dimes  each  one  ought  to  bring  to  the  family  purse, 
and  drew  a  breath  of  relief.  They  would  amount 
to  a  neat  little  sum  by  the  end  of  the  season,  and  by 
that  time  maybe  some  other  way  would  be  opened 
up  for  her  to  earn  money  at  home.  True,  not  all 
the  things  they  planted  came  up.  Fully  a  third  of 
the  garden  "  failed  to  answer  to  roll  call,"  Norman 
said,  but  those  that  did  respond  to  their  diligent  care 
amply  made  up  for  the  failure  of  the  others. 

Jack's  room  in  the  wing  of  the  cottage  had  a 
south  door  over-looking  the  garden,  and  it  was  a 
happy  day  for  the  entire  household  when  he  asked 
to  know  what  was  going  on  out  there.  He  could 
not  see  the  garden  from  the  corner  where  his  bed 
stood,  but  the  nurse  propped  a  large  mirror  up 
against  a  chair  in  a  way  to  reflect  the  entire  scene. 
Norman  was  vigorously  hoeing  weeds,  and  Mary, 
armed  with  a  large  magnifying  glass,  was  on  a  hunt 
for  the  worms  that  were  threatening  the  young 
plants. 

The  scene  seemed  to  amuse  Jack  immensely,  and 
entirely  aroused  out  of  his  apathy,  he  began  to  ask 
questions,  and  to  suggest  various  dishes  that  he 
would  like  to  sample  as  soon  as  the  garden  could 


270  MARY   WARE 

furnish  them.  Every  morning  after  that  he  called 
for  the  mirror  to  see  how  much  the  garden  had 
grown  in  the  night.  It  was  an  event  when  the  first 
tiny  radish  was  brought  in  for  him  to  taste,  and  a 
matter  of  family  rejoicing,  when  the  first  crisp  head 
of  lettuce  was  made  into  a  salad  for  him,  because 
his  enjoyment  of  it  was  so  evident. 

About  that  time  he  was  able  to  be  propped  up  in 
bed  a  little  while  each  day,  and  was  so  much  like  his 
old  cheerful  self  that  Mary  wrote  long  hopeful  let- 
ters to  Joyce  and  Betty  about  his  improvement.  He 
joked  with  the  nurse  and  talked  so  confidently  about 
going  back  to  work,  that  Mary  began  to  feel  that 
her  worst  fears  had  been  unfounded,  and  that  much 
of  her  mental  anguish  on  his  account  had  been  un- 
necessary. Sometimes  she  shared  his  hopefulness 
to  such  an  extent  that  she  half  regretted  leaving 
school  before  the  end  of  the  year.  When  the  girls 
wrote  about  the  approaching  Commencement  and 
the  good  times  they  were  having,  and  of  how  they 
missed  her,  she  thought  how  pleasant  it  would  have 
been  to  have  had  at  least  the  one  whole  year  with 
them.  She  was  afraid  she  would  be  sorry  all  the 
rest  of  her  life  that  she  had  missed  those  experi- 
ences of  Commencement  time.  The  exercises  were 
always  so  beautiful  at  Warwick  Hall. 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  ClWM  2^1 

She  could  not  wholly  regret  her  return,  however, 
when  she  saw  how  much  Jack  depended  on  her  for 
entertainment.  He  was  ready  to  hear  all  about  her 
escapades  at  school  now,  and  hours  at  a  time  she 
talked  or  read  to  him,  choosing  with  unerring  in- 
stinct the  tales  best  suited  to  his  mood.  Phil  kept 
them  supplied  with  all  the  current  magazines.  Phil 
had  been  so  thoughtful  about  that,  and  his  occa- 
sional letters  to  Jack  had  made  red-letter  days  on 
Mary's  calendar.  They  had  been  almost  as  good  as 
visits,  they  were  so  charged  with  his  jolly,  light- 
hearted  spirit. 

But  it  happened,  that  the  story  she  intended  to 
read  Jack  first,  The  Jester's .  Sword,  still  lay  un- 
opened on  her  table.  She  could  not  even  suggest 
his  likeness  to  Aldebaran  while  he  talked  so  hope- 
fully of  what  he  intended  to  do  as  soon  as  he  was 
out  of  bed.  It  was  evident  that  he  did  not  realize 
the  utter  hopelessness  of  his  condition,  or  he  could 
not  have  made  such  big  plans  for  the  future. 

"  Of  course  I  appreciate  your  leaving  school  in 
the  middle  of  the  term,"  he  told  her.  "  It's  good  for 
mamma  to  have  you  here,  and  it's  fine  for  me,  too, 
to  have  you  look  after  me.  But  I'm  sorry  you  were 
so  badly  frightened  that  you  thought  it  necessary. 
You'll  have  to  pay  up  for  this  holiday,  Missy.     I 


272  MARY  WARE 

shall  expect  you  to  study  all  summer  to  make  up 
lost  time,  so  that  you  can  catch  up  with  your  class 
and  enter  Sophomore  with  them  next  fall." 

To  please  him  she  brought  out  her  books  and 
studied  awhile  every  day,  reciting  her  French  and 
Latin  to  her  mother,  and  wrestling  along  with  the 
others  as  best  she  could.  Then,  too,  it  was  impos- 
sible not  to  be  affected  to  some  extent  by  his  spirit 
of  hopefulness,  and  several  times  she  gave  herself 
up  to  the  bliss  of  dreaming  of  the  joyful  thing  it 
would  be,  if  he  should  prove  to  be  right  and  she 
could  go  back  to  Warwick  Hall  in  the  fall.  Then, 
one  day  the  surgeons  came  up  from  Phoenix  again 
and  made  their  examination  and  experiments,  and 
after  that  the  lessons  and  the  day-dreams  stopped. 
Everything  stopped,  it  seemed. 

They  told  him  the  truth  because  he  would  have 
nothing  else,  although  they  shrank  from  doing  it 
until  the  last  moment  of  their  stay.  They  knew  it 
would  be  like  giving  him  his  death-blow.  Mary, 
standing  in  the  door,  saw  the  look  of  unspeakable 
horror  that  stole  slowly  over  his  face,  then  his  help- 
less sinking  back  among  the  pillows,  and  the  twitch- 
ing of  his  hands  as  he  clenched  them  convulsively. 
Not  a  word  or  a  groan  escaped  him,  but  the  wild 
despair  of  his  set  face  and  staring  eyes  was  more 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  273 

than  she  could  endure.  She  rushed  out  of  the  room 
and  out  of  the  house  to  the  little  loft  above  the 
woodshed,  where  no  one  could  hear  her  frantic  sob- 
bing. It  was  hours  before  she  ventured  back  into 
the  house.  It  would  only  add  to  his  misery  to  see 
her  distress,  she  knew,  so  she  left  him  to  the  little 
mother's  ministrations. 

Anticipating  such  a  result,  the  surgeons  had 
brought  several  appliances  to  make  his  confinement 
less  irksome.  There  was  a  hammock  arrangement 
with  pulleys,  by  which  he  might  be  swung  into  dif- 
ferent positions,  and  out  into  a  wheeled  chair.  They 
fastened  the  screws  into  walls  and  ceiling,  put  the 
apparatus  in  place  and  carefully  tested  it  before  leav- 
ing. Then  they  were  at  the  end  of  their  skill.  They 
could  do  nothing  more.  There  was  nothing  that 
could  be  done. 

Several  times  in  the  days  that  followed,  the  nurse 
spoke  of  the  brave  way  in  which  Jack  seemed  to  be 
meeting  his  fate.  But  Mrs.  Ware  shook  her  head 
sadly.  She  knew  why  no  complaint  escaped  him. 
She  had  seen  him  act  the  Spartan  before  to  spare 
her.  Mary,  too,  knew  what  his  persistent  silence 
meant.  He  was  not  always  so  careful  to  veil  the 
suffering  which  showed  through  his  eyes  when  he 
was  alone  with  her.     She  knew  that  half  the  time 


274  MARY   WARE 

when  he  appeared  to  be  listening  to  what  she  was 
reading,  he  was  so  absorbed  in  his  bitter  thoughts 
that  he  did  not  hear  a  word.  "  An  eagle,  broken- 
winged  and  drooping  in  a  cage,  he  gloomed  upon 
his  lot  and  cursed  the  vital  force  within  that  would 
not  let  him  die." 

One  morning,  when  he  had  been  settled  in  his 
wheeled  chair,  she  brought  out  the  story  of  the  Jes- 
ter's Sword,  saying,  tremulously,  "  Will  you  do 
something  for  me,  Jack?  Read  this  little  book 
yourself.  I  know  you  don't  halfway  listen  to  what 
I  read  any  more,  and  I  don't  blame  you,  but  this 
seems  to  have  been  written  just  on  purpose  for 
you." 

He  took  the  book  from  her  listlessly,  and  opened 
it  because  she  wished  it.  Watching  him  from  the 
doorway,  she  waited  until  she  saw  him  glance  up 
from  the  opening  paragraph  to  the  watch-fob  lying 
on  the  stand  at  his  elbow.  Then  he  looked  back  at 
the  page,  with  a  slight  show  of  interest,  and  she 
knew  that  the  reference  to  Mars'  month  and  the 
bloodstone  had  caught  his  attention  as  it  had  hers. 
Then  she  left  him  alone  with  it,  hoping  fervently  it 
would  arouse  in  him  at  least  a  tithe  of  the  interest  it 
had  awakened  in  her. 

When   she  came  back   after   awhile  he  merely 


THE  LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  2'/5 

handed  her  the  book,  saying  in  an  indifferent  way, 
"  A  very  pretty  little  tale,  Mary,"  and  leaned  back 
in  his  chair  with  closed  eyes,  as  if  dismissing  it  from 
his  thoughts.  She  was  disappointed,  but  later  she 
saw  him  sitting  with  it  in  his  hand  again,  closed 
over  one  ringer  as  if  to  keep  the  place,  while  he 
looked  out  of  the  window  with  a  faraway  expres- 
sion in  his  eyes.  Later  the  nurse  asked  her  what 
book  it  was  he  kept  under  his  pillow.  He  drew  it 
out  occasionally,  she  said,  and  glanced  at  one  of  the 
pages  as  if  he  were  trying  to  memorize  it. 

That  he  had  at  last  read  it  as  she  read  it,  putting 
himself  in  the  place  of  Aldebaran,  Mary  knew  one 
day  from  an  unconscious  reference  he  made  to  it. 
A  sudden  wind  had  blown  up,  scattering  papers  and 
magazines  across  the  room,  and  fluttering  his  cur- 
tains like  flags.  She  ran  in  to  pick  up  the  wind- 
blown articles  and  close  the  shutters.  When  every- 
thing was  in  order,  as  she  thought,  she  turned  to  go 
out,  but  he  stopped  her,  saying  almost  fretfully, 
"  You  haven't  picked  up  that  picture  that  blew 
down."  When  she  glanced  all  around  the  room, 
unable  to  discover  it,  he  pointed  to  the  hearth.  A 
photograph  had  fallen  from  the  mantel,  face  down- 
ward. 

"  There !    Vesta's  picture ! " 


276  MARY   WARE 

Mary  picked  it  up  and  turned  it  over,  exclaiming, 
"Why,  no,  it  is  Betty's!" 

"  That's  what  I  said,"  he  answered,  wholly  un- 
conscious of  his  slip  of  the  tongue  that  had  betrayed 
his  secret.  Her  back  was  turned  towards  him,  so 
that  he  could  not  see  the  tears  which  sprang  to  her 
eyes.  If  already  it  had  come  to  this,  that  Betty  was 
the  Vesta  of  his  dreams,  then  his  renunciation  must 
be  an  hundredfold  harder  than  she  had  imagined. 

With  a  pity  so  deep  that  she  could  not  trust  her- 
self to  speak,  she  busied  herself  in  blowing  some 
specks  of  dust  from  the  mantel,  as  an  excuse  to  keep 
her  back  turned.  She  was  relieved  when  the  nurse 
came  in  with  a  glass  of  lemonade  and  she  could  slip 
out  without  his  seeing  her  face.  She  sat  down  on 
the  back  steps,  her  arms  around  her  knees  to  think 
about  the  discovery  she  had  just  made.  It  made  her 
heart-sick  because  it  added  so  immeasurably  to  the 
weight  of  Jack's  misfortune. 

"Oh,  why  did  it  have  to  be?"  she  demanded 
again  of  fate.  "  It  is  too  cruel  that  everything  the 
dear  boy  wanted  most  should  be  denied  him."^ 

With  her  thoughts  centred  gloomily  on  his  in- 
juries, it  seemed  almost  an  insult  for  the  sun  to 
shine  or  for  any  one  to  be  happy,  and  she  was  in  no 
mood  to  meet  any  one  in  a  different  humour  from 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  277 

her  own.  Added  to  her  dull  misery  on  Jack's  ac- 
count, was  a  baffled,  disappointed  feeling  that  she 
had  not  been  the  comfort  to  him  she  had  hoped  to 
be.  True,  she  was  learning  to  give  him  the  massage 
he  needed  with  almost  as  skilful  a  touch  as  the 
nurse,  but  she  could  not  see  that  she  had  eased  his 
burden  mentally,  in  the  least,  although  she  had  tried 
faithfully  to  carry  out  the  good  friar's  suggestion. 
It  seemed  so  hard,  when  she  was  ready  to  make 
any  sacrifice  for  him,  no  matter  how  great,  even  to 
exchanging  her  strength  for  his  helplessness,  that 
the  means  should  be  denied  her. 

While  she  sat  there,  longing  for  some  great 
Angel  of  Opportunity  to  open  the  way  for  her  to 
help  him,  a  little  one  was  coming  in  at  the  back 
gate,  so  disguised  that  she  did  not  recognize  it  as 
such.  She  was  even  impatient  at  the  interruption. 
Norman,  followed  by  a  half  grown  Mexican  boy 
trundling  a  wheel-barrow,  came  up  from  the  barn, 
with  a  whole  train  of  smaller  boys  running  along- 
side, to  support  the  chicken  coop  he  was  wheeling. 
Norman's  face  shone  with  importance,  and  he  called 
excitedly  as  he  fumbled  at  the  gate  latch,  "  Look, 
Mary !  You  can't  guess  what  we've  got  in  this  box ! 
A  young  wild-cat !    Lupe  wants  to  sell  him." 

"  For   mercy's   sake,   Norman   Ware,"   she   an- 


278  MARY    WARE 

swered,  impatiently,  "  haven't  we  enough  trouble 
now  without  your  bringing  home  a  wild-cat  to  add 
to  them?    And  now,  of  all  times!  " 

The  tone  carried  even  more  disapproval  than  her 
words.  It  seemed  to  insinuate  that  if  he  had  the 
proper  sympathy  for  Jack  he  would  not  be  thinking 
of  anything  else  but  his  affliction.  Instantly  the 
bright  face  clouded,  and  in  an  injured  tone  he  be- 
gan to  explain: 

"  I  thought  brother  would  like  to  see  it,  and  he 
could  make  the  trade  for  me.  He  talks  Mexican, 
and  I  only  know  a  few  words.  I  couldn't  make  the 
boys  understand  more  than  that  they  were  to  bring 
it  along.  I  don't  see  why  Jack's  being  sick  should 
keep  me  from  having  a  nice  pet  like  a  wild-cat.  He 
isn't  a  bit  mean,  and  I  haven't  had  a  single  thing 
since  the  puppy  was  poisoned." 

The  procession  had  paused,  and  the  piercingly 
bright  eyes  of  each  one  of  the  little  Mexicans 
seemed  also  to  be  asking  why.  Mary  suddenly  had 
to  acknowledge  to  herself  that  there  wasn't  any 
good  reason  to  prevent.  Because  one  brother  was 
desperately  unhappy  was  no  reason  why  she  should 
cloud  the  enjoyment  of  the  other  one  by  refusing 
him  something  on  which  he  had  set  his  heart. 

Norman    could    not    understand    the    lightning 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  279 

change  in  her,  but  he  followed  joyfully  when  she 
answered  with  a  brief,  "  Well,  come  on,"  and  led 
the  way  around  to  the  south  door  of  Jack's  room, 
and  called  his  attention  to  the  embryo  menagerie 
outside. 

To  her  surprise,  for  the  first  time  since  the  sur- 
geons' last  visit,  Jack  laughed.  It  was  an  amusing 
group,  the  wild-cat  in  the  chicken-coop  with  its 
body-guard  of  dirty,  grinning  little  Mexicans,  and 
Norman  circling  excitedly  around  them,  explaining 
that  Lupe  asked  a  dollar  for  it,  but  that  he  could 
only  give  fifty  cents,  and  for  Jack  to  make  him  un- 
derstand. 

Jack  did  make  him  understand,  and  conducted  the 
trade  to  Norman's  entire  satisfaction.  Then  recog- 
nizing Lupe  as  one  of  the  boys  he  had  seen  around 
the  office,  he  began  to  question  him  in  Mexican 
about  the  mines  and  the  men.  Then  it  developed 
that  Lupe  was  the  son  of  one  of  the  men  who  had 
been  saved  by  Jack's  quick  warning,  and  when  the 
boy  repeated  what  some  of  the  miners  had  said 
about  him,  Jack  grew  red  and  did  not  translate  it 
all.  The  part  he  did  translate  was  to  the  effect  that 
the  men  wanted  him  back  at  the  mine.  They  were 
having  trouble  with  the  "  fat  boss,"  their  name  for 
the  new  manager, 


280  MARY   WARE 

The  little  transaction  and  talk  with  the  boys 
seemed  to  cheer  Jack  up  so  much  that  Mary  men- 
tally apologized  to  the  wild-cat  for  her  inhospitable 
reception,  and  electrified  Norman  by  an  offer  to 
help  him  build  a  more  suitable  cage  for  it  than  the 
coop  in  which  it  was  confined.  Norman,  who  had 
unbounded  faith  in  Mary's  ability  as  a  carpenter, 
accepted  her  offer  joyfully.  She  wasn't  like  some 
girls  he  had  known.  When  she  drove  a  nail  it  held 
things  together,  and  whatever  she  built  would  be 
strong  enough  to  hold  any  beast  he  might  choose  to 
put  in  it. 

"  Now,  if  I  could  get  a  couple  of  coyotes  and  a 
badger  and  a  fox  or  two,"  he  remarked,  "  I'd  be 
fixed." 

Mary,  who  was  sorting  over  a  pile  of  old  boards 
back  of  the  woodshed,  paused  in  alarm. 

"  It  strikes  me,  young  man,"  she  said,  a  trifle  sar- 
castically, "  that  the  more  some  people  get  the  more 
they  want.  Your  wishes  seem  to  be  on  the  Jack's 
Bean-stalk  scale.  They  grow  to  reach  the  sky  in  a 
single  night.  Suppose  you  did  have  those  things, 
you  wouldn't  be  satisfied.  It  would  be  a  zebra  and 
a  giraffe  and  a  jungle  tiger  next." 

"No,  it  wouldn't,"  he  declared.     "I  wouldn't 


WHEN    SHE    DROVE   A    NAIL    IT    HELD    THINGS    TOGETHER. 


THE   LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  28 1 

know  how  to  take  care  of  them,  but  I  do  know  how 
to  feed  the  things  that  live  around  here." 

"  What  do  you  want  them  for  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  know  what  Huldah  said  about  sum- 
mer campers.  There's  always  a  lot  of  boys  along, 
and  if  I  had  a  sort  of  menagerie  they'd  want  to  come 
over  and  play  circus,  and  then  they'd  let  me  in 
on  their  ball-games  and  things.  It's  awful  lone- 
some with  school  out  and  Billy  Downs  gone  back 
East.  There's  so  few  fellows  here  my  age,  and 
Jack  won't  let  me  play  much  with  the  little  Mexi- 
cans. They  aren't  much  fun  anyhow  when  I  can't 
talk  their  lingo." 

Mary  straightened  up,  hammer  in  hand,  and 
squinted  her  eyes  thoughtfully,  a  way  she  had  when 
something  puzzled  her.  It  had  not  occurred  to  her 
that  Norman  had  social  longings  like  her  own  which 
Lone-Rock  failed  to  satisfy.  He  watched  her  anx- 
iously. That  preoccupied  squint  always  meant  that 
interesting  developments  would  follow. 

"  Norman  Ware,"  she  said,  slowly,  "  I  didn't 
give  you  credit  for  being  a  genius,  but  you  are  as 
great  in  one  way  as  Emerson.  You've  hit  on  one 
of  his  ideas  all  by  yourself.  He  said,  '  If  a  man 
can  write  a  better  book,  preach  a  better  sermon  or 
make    a    better    mouse-trap    than    his    neighbours, 


282  MARY   WARE 

though  he  build  his  house  in  the  woods,  the  world 
will  make  a  beaten  track  to  his  door.'  If  you  want 
company  as  bad  as  all  that,  you  shall  have  a  beaten 
track  to  your  door.  We'll  build  something  better 
than  the  neighbours  ever  dreamed  of,  and  it  won't 
be  a  mouse-trap,  either.  There's  enough  old  lum- 
ber here  to  build  half  a  dozen  cages,  and  if  you'll 
pay  for  the  wire  netting  out  of  your  share  of  the 
garden  profits,  I'll  help  you  put  up  a  menagerie  that 
P.  T.  Barnum  himself  wouldn't  have  been  ashamed 
of." 

Norman's  answer  was  a  whoop  and  a  double 
somersault,  and  he  came  up  on  his  feet  again  re- 
marking that  she  was  worth  all  the  fellows  in  Lone- 
Rock  put  together. 

"  According  to  what  you've  just  said  that  isn't' 
very  much  of  a  compliment,"  laughed  Mary.  Still 
it  gratified  her  so  much  that  presently  she  was  plan- 
ning a  side-show  for  the  menagerie.  There  were 
all  her  mounted  specimens  of  trap-door  spiders  and 
butterflies  and  desert  insects.  She  would  loan  the 
collection  occasionally,  and  her  stuffed  Gila  monster 
and  the  arrow-heads  and  rattle-snake  skins  that  she 
and  Holland  had  collected. 

As  she  hammered  and  sawed  she  told  Norman  the 
story  of  The  Jester's  Szvord.    "  That  is  one  reason 


THE  LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  283 

I  am  taking  so  much  interest  in  this,"  she  explained. 
"  I've  been  thinking  for  days  about  what  the  old 
friar  said,  that  men  need  laughter  sometimes  more 
than  food,  and  if  we  haven't  any  cheer  to  spare  our- 
selves, we  may  go  a-gathering  it  from  door  to  door 
as  he  did  crusts  and  carry  it  to  those  who  need. 
That  is  why  I  have  gone  on  long  walks  and  made 
so  many  calls  on  the  few  people  that  are  here,  so 
that  I'd  have  something  amusing  to  tell  Jack  when 
I  came  home.  But  he  has  seemed  to  find  my  '  crusts 
of  cheer '  mighty  dry  food,  and  he  didn't  take  half 
the  interest  in  them  that  he  did  in  talking  to  Lupe 
to-day." 

"  Lupe  will  make  a  beaten  track  to  his  door  fast 
enough,"  prophesied  Norman,  "  when  he  finds  we 
want  to  buy  more  animals.  I'll  send  word  to-night 
to  him  to  set  his  traps  for  those  coyotes  and 
foxes." 

That  evening  after  supper,  Jack  wheeled  himself 
out  on  to  the  porch.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had  at- 
tempted it,  and  when  he  had  made  the  trip  success- 
fully, he  sat  a  few  minutes  watching  the  stars. 
They  seemed  unusually  brilliant,  and  he  amused 
himself  in  tracing  the  constellations  with  which  he 
was  familiar.  It  had  been  a  family  study  at  the 
Wigwam,  and  they  had  learned  many  things  from 


284  MARY   WARE 

the  little  Atlas  of  the  Heavens  which  Mrs.  Ware 
kept  among  her  other  old  school  books.  Presently 
he  called  Mary. 

"  I've  located  Taurus.  See,  just  over  that  tree 
top.  And  there  is  its  red  eye,  Aldebaran.  I  wanted 
you  to  see  what  a  jolly  twinkle  he  has  to-night." 

It  was  the  first  direct  reference  he  had  made  to 
the  story,  and  Mary  waited  expectantly  for  him  to 
go  on. 

"  Don't  you  worry,  little  pard,"  he  said,  after  a 
pause.  "  I've  known  all  along  how  you  felt  about 
me.  But  I'm  not  knocked  quite  out  of  the  game, 
even  if  I  am  such  a  wreck.  I  felt  so  until  I  had 
that  talk  with  Lupe,  as  if  there  was  no  use  of  my 
cumbering  the  ground  any  longer.  But  I  found  out 
a  lot  from  him.  The  men  want  me  back.  They 
don't  understand  the  new  boss  at  all.  They  will  do 
anything  for  me.  So  even  if  I  can't  walk  I  can 
be  worth  at  least  half  a  man  to  the  Company,  in 
just  being  on  the  spot  to  interpret  and  to  keep  things 
running  smoothly.  I  could  attend  to  the  correspon- 
dence, too,  for  my  head  and  hands  are  all  right.  I 
know  I  am  as  helpless  as  a  baby  yet,  but  if  you'll 
just  stand  by  me,  and  keep  up  that  treatment,  and 
help  me  get  my  strength  back,  I'll  make  good,  some 
way  or  another,  just  as  well  as  Aldebaran  did.    By 


THE   LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  285 

the  bloodstone  on  my  watch-fob !  "  he  added,  laugh- 
ingly.   "  How  is  that  for  a  fine  swear?  " 

The  old  hopeful  note  in  his  voice  made  his  help- 
lessness more  pathetic  than  ever  to  Mary,  but  she 
answered  gaily,  "  You  know  I'll  stand  by  you  till 
*  the  last  cock  crows  and  the  last  trump  blows ! ' 
You  didn't  have  to  be  born  in  Mars  month  to  make 
undaunted  courage  the  jewel  of  your  soul." 

Perched  on  the  arm  of  his  chair  she  sat  watching 
the  red  star  for  a  moment,  thinking  of  the  events 
which  had  led  to  his  resolution.  "  It's  queer,  isn't 
it,"  she  said  aloud.  "  I  almost  drove  Norman  away 
this  afternoon  with  his  beast  and  his  train  of  little 
Mexicans.  I  was  so  out  of  patience  with  him  for 
bringing  them  here.  But  how  is  one  to  know  an 
Opportunity  when  it  comes  in  a  chicken-coop  dis- 
guised as  a  Wild-cat  ?  " 


CHAPTER   XV 

KEEPING    TRYST 

An  hundred  times  that  summer,  Jack  made  the 
story  of  Aldebaran  his  own.  He  had  his  rare,  ex- 
alted moments,  when  all  things  seemed  possible; 
when  despite  his  helpless  body  his  spirit  walked 
erect,  and  faced  his  future  for  the  time  undaunted. 
He  had  his  daily  struggle  with  the  host  of  hurts 
which  cut  him  to  the  quick,  the  reminders  of  his 
thwarted  hopes  and  foiled  ambitions.  Then,  too, 
there  were  times  when  the  only  way  he  could  keep 
up  his  courage  was  to  repeat  grimly  through  set 
teeth,  "  'Tis  only  one  hour  at  a  time  that  I  am  called 
on  to  endure.  By  the  bloodstone  that  is  my  birth- 
right, I'll  keep  my  oath  until  the  going  down  of  one 
more  sun."  Before  the  summer  was  over  it  came 
to  pass  that  more  than  one  soul,  given  fresh  courage 
by  his  brave  example,  looked  upon  him  as  the  vil- 
lagers had  upon  Aldebaran :  "  A  poor,  maimed 
creature  in  his  outward  seeming,  and  yet  so  blithely 
does  he  bear  his  lot  it  seems  a  kingly  spirit  dwells 
among  us." 

286 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  287 

Mary's  letters  to  Joyce  began  to  take  on  a  cheer- 
ful tone  that  was  vastly  encouraging  to  the  toiler  in 
the  studio. 

"  We  have  revised  Emerson,"  she  wrote  one  July 
morning.  "  It  is  fully  as  true  to  say,  '  If  one  can 
make  a  better  garden,  show  a  bigger  circus  or  put 
up  a  more  cheerful  front  to  Fate  than  his  neigh- 
bours, though  he  build  his  house  in  Lone-Rock,  the 
world  will  make  a  beaten  track  to  his  door.'  The 
path  it  has  made  to  ours  is  a  wide  one.  The  boys 
swarm  here  all  hours  of  the  day,  to  Norman's  de- 
light, the  summer  campers  make  our  garden  the 
Mecca  of  their  morning  pilgrimages,  and  the  cheer- 
ful front  we  put  up  to  Fate  seems  to  be  the  magnet 
that  draws  them  back  again  in  the  afternoons. 

"  Really,  our  shady  front  porch  reminds  me 
sometimes  of  a  popular  Summer  Resort  piazza,  it 
is  so  gay  and  chatty.  The  ladies  of  the  camp  come 
over  nearly  every  day  and  bring  their  sewing  and 
fancy  work,  and  Huldah  and  I  serve  tea.  It  would 
do  you  good  to  see  how  mamma  enjoys  Mrs.  Lever- 
ing and  Mrs.  Seldon.  They're  like  the  friends  she 
used  to  have  back  in  Plainsville,  and  this  is  the 
first  really  good  social  time  she  has  had  since  we 
left  there. 

"  Professor  Levering  and  Professor  Seldon  seem 


288  MARY   WARE 

to  find  Jack  so  congenial.  They  talk  to  him  by  the 
hour  on  the  scientific  subjects  he  loves.  It  is  a 
Godsend  to  him  to  have  such  a  diversion.  Mrs. 
Levering  said  to  me  this  morning  that  he  is  a  daily 
wonder  to  them  all,  and  a  rebuke  as  well.  '  We 
think  we  have  troubles,'  she  said,  '  until  we  come 
over  here.  Then  you  make  them  seem  so  insignifi- 
cant that  we  are  ashamed  to  label  them  troubles. 
Oh,  you  Wares;  I  never  saw  such  a  family!  You 
fairly  radiate  cheerfulness.  I  wish  you'd  tell  me 
how  you  do  it.' 

"  I  told  her  I  supposed  it  was  because  we  were  all 
such  copy-cats.  First  we  imitated  the  old  Vicar 
of  Wakefield  so  many  years  that  it  gave  us  a  cheer- 
ful bent  of  mind,  and  lately  we'd  taken  the  story  of 
Aldebaran  to  heart  and  were  imitating  him  and  the 
other  Jester.  She  said,  '  Commend  me  to  copy- 
cats.   I'm  glad  I  discovered  the  species.' 

"  I  am  telling  you  all  this  in  order  that  you  may 
see  that  we  have  managed  to  keep  inflexible  to  the 
extent  of  impressing  our  neighbours,  at  least,  and 
there  is  no  need  for  you  to  worry  about  us  any 
more.  I  hope  you  will  accept  Eugenia's  invitation 
and  spend  that  two  weeks  at  the  sea-shore  in  the 
idlest,  most  care-free  way  you  can  think  of,  and 
not  give  one  anxious  thought  to  us.    True,  our  day 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  289 

of  great  things  is  over.  We  no  longer  lay  large 
plans,  and  sweep  the  heavens  with  a  telescope,  look- 
ing for  pleasure  on  a  large  scale,  among  the  stars. 
But  it  is  wonderful  how  many  little  things  we  find 
now  that  we  used  to  let  slip  unheeded,  since  we've 
gone  to  looking  for  them  with  a  microscope." 

Two  days  later  another  letter  was  sent  post-haste 
to  Joyce,  written  in  a  hurried  scrawl  with  a  pencil, 
clearly  showing  Mary's  agitation. 

"  Something  exciting  has  happened  at  last !  The 
Leverings  brought  a  friend  to  call  this  afternoon, 
who  has  just  arrived  in  Lone-Rock  to  spend  the  rest 
of  vacation  with  them;  a  grumpy,  middle-aged,  ab- 
sent-minded, old  professor  from  the  East,  who 
seemed  rather  bored  with  us  at  first.  But  when  he 
was  taken  out  to  the  side-show  in  the  *  Zoo,'  he 
waked  up  in  a  hurry.  His  very  spectacles  gleamed 
and  his  gray  whiskers  bristled  with  interest  when 
he  saw  my  assortment  of  pressed  wild-flowers  from 
the  desert,  and  the  collection  of  butterflies  and  trap- 
door spiders  and  other  insects  in  my  '  Buggery,'  as 
Norman  calls  it.  When  I  showed  him  all  the  data 
I  had  collected  from  text-books  and  encyclopaedias 
about  the  insect  and  plant  life  of  the  desert,  and  all 
the  notes  I  had  made  myself  from  my  own  observa- 
tions, he  actually  whistled  with  surprise.     He  sat 


290  MARY   WARE 

and  fired  questions  at  me  like  a  Gatling  gun  for 
nearly  an  hour,  winding  up  by  asking  me  if  I  had 
any  idea  what  a  valuable  collection  I  had  made,  and 
if  I  would  be  willing  to  part  with  it. 

"  Then  it  came  out  that  he  is  a  noted  naturalist 
who  is  preparing  a  set  of  books  on  insects  and  their 
relation  to  plant  life,  and  is  spending  a  year  in  the 
West  on  purpose  to  study  the  varieties  here.  Some 
of  my  specimens  are  so  rare  he  has  not  come  across 
them  before,  and  he  said  my  notes  would  save  him 
weeks  of  time  —  in  fact,  would  be  like  a  blazed 
trail  through  a  wilderness,  showing  him  where  to 
go  to  verify  my  observations  without  loss  of  time. 

"Of  course,  when  it  comes  to  the  pinch,  I  don't 
want  to  part  with  my  beautiful  collection  of  speci- 
mens. It  means  a  great  deal  to  me ;  I  was  over  four 
years  making  it.  But  it  is  too  great  an  opportunity 
to  let  pass.  He  is  to  name  the  price  to-morrow 
after  he  has  made  a  careful  estimate,  so  I  don't 
know  how  much  he  will  offer,  but  Mrs.  Levering 
says  it  is  sure  to  be  far  more  than  an  inexperienced 
teacher  or  stenographer  could  earn  in  a  whole  sum- 
mer. 

"  How  I  have  worried  and  fretted  and  fumed  be- 
cause I  had  no  way  to  make  money  here !  Now  be- 
sides what  I  get  for  my  specimens  I  am  to  have  a 


THE   LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  29 1 

chance  to  earn  a  little  more.  Professor  Carnes  will 
be  here  till  cold  weather,  and  since  I  can  give  him 
'  intelligent  assistance/  as  he  calls  it,  he  will  have 
work  for  me  in  connection  with  his  notes,  copying 
and  indexing  them,  and  gathering  new  material. 
I  "  Now  you  can  go  back  to  saving  up  for  your  year 
abroad,  and  give  the  family  the  honour  of  claim- 
ing one  member  with  a  career.  Jack  is  really  going 
back  to  the  office  the  first  of  September  for  a  part 
of  every  day,  at  quite  a  respectable  salary  consider- 
ing the  length  of  time  he  will  work.  He's  too  valu- 
able a  man  to  the  company  for  them  to  part  with. 
As  for  me,  I'm  sure  something  else  will  turn  up  as 
soon  as  my  work  for  Professor  Carnes  comes  to  an 
end.  We  Wares  can  look  back  over  so  many  Eben- 
Ezers  raised  to  mark  some  special  time  when  Provi- 
dence came  to  our  rescue,  that  we  have  no  right 
ever  to  be  discouraged  again.  Professor  Carnes  is 
my  last  one,  though  nobody  would  be  more  aston- 
ished than  he  to  know  that  he  is  regarded  in  the 
light  of  an  old  Israelitish  Memorial  stone.  You 
will  not  have  such  frequent  letters  from  me  after 
this,  as  I  shall  be  so  busy.  But  Jack  says  he  will 
attend  to  my  correspondence.  He  is  beginning  to 
write  a  little  every  day.  Yesterday  he  wrote  to 
Betty.     He  has  enjoyed  her  letters  so  much,  telling 


292  MARY   WARE 

about  her  lovely  time  up  in  the  Maine  woods.  I 
am  so  glad  you  are  to  have  a  vacation,  too.  So  no 
more  at  present  from  your  happy  little  sister." 

Like  all  people  who  are  limited  to  one  hobby,  and 
who  pursue  one  line  of  study  for  years  regardless 
of  other  interests,  Professor  Carnes  took  little  no- 
tice of  anything  outside  of  his  especial  work.  If 
Mary  had  been  a  new  kind  of  bug  he  would  have 
studied  her  with  profound  interest,  spending  days  in 
learning  her  peculiarities,  and  sparing  no  pains  in 
classifying  her  and  assigning  her  to  the  place  she 
occupied  in  the  great  plan  of  creation.  But  being 
only  a  human  being  she  attracted  his  attention  only 
so  far  as  she  contributed  to  the  success  of  his  work. 

He  would  go  tramping  through  the  woods  wher- 
ever she  led,  only  vaguely  aware  of  the  fact  that 
she  had  enlisted  half  a  dozen  small  boys  in  her  serv- 
ice, and  that  she  was  turning  them  into  enthusiastic 
young  naturalists  before  his  very  eyes.  She  was  not 
doing  this  consciously,  however.  Her  motive  for 
inviting  them  on  these  expeditions,  was  simply  to 
include  Norman  and  his  friends  in  her  own  enjoy- 
ment of  the  summer  woods.  It  was  so  easy  to  turn 
^ch  excursion  into  a  picnic,  to  build  a  fire  near  some 
spring  and  set  out  a  simple  lunch  that  seemed  a 
feast  of  the  gods  to  voracious  boyish  appetites. 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  293 

The  goodly  smell  of  corn,  roasting  in  the  ashes, 
or  fresh  fish  sizzling  on  hot  stones  gave  a  charm  to 
the  learning  of  wood-lore  that  it  never  could  have 
possessed  otherwise.  At  first  with  the  heedlessness 
of  city-bred  boys,  they  crashed  through  the  under- 
brush with  unseeing  eyes,  and  unhearing  ears,  but 
it  was  not  long  until  they  had  learned  the  alertness 
of  young  Indians,  following  by  signs  of  bark  and 
leaf  and  fallen  feather,  trails  more  interesting  than 
any  detective  story. 

Gradually  the  old  professor,  aroused  to  the  fact 
that  they  were  valuable  assistants,  began  to  take 
some  notice  of  them.  They  awakened  memories  of 
his  own  barefooted  boyhood,  and  sometimes  when 
he  had  had  a  particularly  successful  morning,  he 
threw  off  his  habitual  abstraction,  and  as  Mary  re- 
ported to  Jack,  was  "  as  human  as  anybody." 

It  seemed,  too,  that  at  these  times  he  saw  Mary  in 
a  new  light ;  saw  her  as  the  boys  did,  fearless  as  one 
of  themselves,  tireless  as  a  squaw,  and  a  happy-go- 
lucky  comrade  who  could  turn  the  most  ordinary 
occasion  into  a  jolly  outing.  Her  knack  of  invent- 
ing substitutes  when  he  had  left  some  necessary 
article  at  home  filled  him  with  mild  wonder.  He 
came  to  believe  that  her  resources  were  unlimited. 

One  morning,  early  in  September,  he  forgot  his 


294  MARY  WARE 

memorandum  book  and  pencil,  and  did  not  discover 
the  fact  until  he  was  ready  to  note  some  measure- 
ments which  he  could  not  trust  to  memory.  It  was 
no  matter,  she  assured  him  cheerfully,  as  he  stood 
peering  helplessly  around  over  his  spectacles  and 
slapping  his  pockets  in  vain. 

"  You  know  Lysander  says,  '  Where  the  lion's 
skin  will  not  reach  it  must  be  pieced  with  the  fox's.' 
I'll  find  some  kind  of  a  substitute  for  your  pencil, 
somewhere." 

After  a  few  moments'  absence  she  came  up  the 
hill  again  with  some  broad  sycamore  leaves  which 
she  laid  on  a  flat  rock.  "  There!  "  she  exclaimed. 
"You  dictate,  and  I'll  write  on  these  leaves  with 
a  hair-pin.  Hazel  Lee  and  I  used  to  write  notes  on 
them  by  the  hour,  playing  post-office,  back  at  the 
Wigwam." 

Several  times  during  the  dictation  he  looked  at 
her  as  if  about  to  make  some  personal  remark,  then 
changed  his  mind.  What  he  had  to  say  needed 
more  explanation  than  he  felt  equal  to  making,  and 
he  decided  to  send  Mrs.  Levering  as  his  spokesman. 
Being  a  relative,  she  understood  the  situation  he 
wanted  to  make  plain,  and  he  felt  she  could  deal 
with  the  subject  better  than  he.  So  that  afternoon, 
Mrs.   Levering  came  over  on  his  errand.     Mrs. 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  295 

Ware  and  Mary  were  sewing,  and  she  plunged  at 
once  into  her  story. 

Professor  Carnes  had  been  left  the  guardian  of 
a  fifteen-year-old  niece,  who  was  born  into  the 
world  with  a  delicate  constitution,  an  unhappy  dis- 
position and  the  proverbial  gold  spoon  in  her  mouth 
as  far  as  finances  were  concerned.  The  poor  pro- 
fessor felt  that  he  had  been  left  with  something 
worse  than  a  white  elephant  on  his  hands,  for  he 
knew  absolutely  nothing  about  girls,  and  Marion, 
with  her  morbid,  super-sensitive  temperament,  was 
a  constant  puzzle  to  him.  She  had  been  in  a  con- 
vent school  until  recently.  But  now  her  physicians 
advised  that  she  be  taken  out  and  sent  to  some  place 
in  the  country  where  she  could  lead  an  active  out- 
door life  for  an  entire  year.  They  recommended 
a  climate  similar  to  the  one  at  Lone-Rock. 

The  Professor  could  make  arrangements  for  her 
to  board  in  Doctor  Gray's  family,  quite  near  the 
Wares,  and  felt  that  she  would  be  well  taken  care 
of  there,  physically,  but  he  recognized  the  necessity 
of  providing  for  her  in  other  ways.  She  had  no  re- 
sources of  her  own  for  entertainment,  and  he  knew 
she  would  fret  herself  into  a  decline  unless  some 
means  were  provided  to  interest  and  amuse  her.  He 
had  been  wonderfully  impressed  with  Mary's  ability 


296  MARY   WARE 

to  make  the  best  of  every  situation,  and  after  he 
had  once  been  awakened  to  the  fact  that  she  was 
an  unusual  specimen  of  humanity,  had  studied  her 
carefully.  Now  he  confided  to  Mrs.  Levering  his 
greatest  desire  for  Marion  was  that  she  might  grow 
up  to  be  as  self  reliant  and  happy-hearted  a  young 
girl  as  Mary. 

Seeing  how  she  had  aroused  such  a  love  for 
nature  study  in  the  boys,  he  felt  that  she  might 
do  the  same  for  Marion.  It  was  really  a  marvel, 
Mrs.  Levering  insisted,  how  she  had  bewitched  both 
her  Carl  and  Tommy  Seldon.  They  were  in  a 
fair  way  to  become  as  great  cranks  as  the  old 
professor  himself.  Now  this  was  the  proposition 
he  wanted  to  make.  That  Mary  should  take  the 
place  of  teachers  and  text-books,  for  awhile,  and 
devote  herself  to  the  task  of  making  Marion  for- 
get herself  and  her  imaginary  grievances;  to  in- 
terest her  in  wood-lore  to  the  extent  of  making  her 
willing  to  spend  much  time  out  of  doors,  and  to 
imbue  her  if  possible  with  some  of  the  cheerful 
philosophy  that  made  the  entire  Ware  family  such 
delightful  companions. 

"  Of  course,"  explained  Mrs.  'Levering,  "  he  un- 
derstands that  one  could  never  be  adequately  repaid 
for  such  a  service.    It  would  be  worth  more  than 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  297 

any  course  at  college  or  any  fortune,  to  Marion,  if 
she  could  be  changed  from  a  listless,  unhappy  girl 
to  one  like  yourself.  She  will  tax  your  ingenuity 
and  require  infinite  tact  and  patience,  but  he  feels 
that  you  can  do  more  for  her  than  any  older  per- 
son, because  she  needs  healthy,  young  companion- 
ship more  than  anything  else  in  the  world.  If  you 
will  devote  your  mornings  to  her,  trying  to  attain 
the  result  he  wants  in  any  way  you  see  fit,  he  will 
gladly  pay  you  anything  in  reason.  Just  let  me 
take  back  word  that  you  will  consider  his  offer  and 
he  will  be  over  here  post-haste  to  make  terms  with 
you." 

Mary  looked  inquiringly  across  at  her  mother, 
too  bewildered  by  this  sudden  prospect  of  such  good 
fortune,  to  answer  for  herself,  but  Mrs.  Ware  con- 
sented immediately.  "  I  think  it  a  very  fortunate 
arrangement  for  both  girls.  There  is  no  one  near 
Mary's  age  in  Lone-Rock,  and  I  have  been  dread- 
ing the  winter  for  her  on  that  account.  I  am  sure 
she  can  make  a  real  friend  and  companion  out  of 
Marion,  and  I  can  say  this  for  my  little  girl,  it 
will  never  be  dull  for  anybody  who  follows  her 
trail  through  life." 

Mrs.  Levering  rose  to  go.  "  Then  it's  as  good 
as  settled.     I'm  sure  the  poor  old  professor  will 


298  MARY  WARE 

feel  that  you've  taken  a  great  burden  off  his  shoul- 
ders, and  that  this  will  be  the  most  profitable  year's 
education  that  Marion  will  ever  have." 

Hardly  had  their  visitor  departed,  when  Mrs. 
Ware  was  seized  around  the  waist  by  a  young  cy- 
clone that  waltzed  her  through  the  kitchen,  down 
the  garden  walk  and  out  to  the  shade  of  the  tree 
where  Jack  sat  reading  in  his  wheeled  chair.  "  Tell 
him,  mamma,"  Mary  demanded,  breathless  and 
panting.  "  I'm  too  happy  for  words.  Then  call 
in  the  neighbours,  and  sing  the  Doxology !  " 

Later,  as  she  and  Jack  sat  discussing  the  situa- 
tion with  a  zest  which  left  no  phase  of  it  untouched, 
he  said  teasingly,  "  You  needn't  be  pluming  your- 
self complacently  over  all  those  compliments.  Do 
you  realize  when  all's  said  and  done,  they've  asked 
nothing  more  of  you  than  simply  to  put  on  cap 
and  bells  and  play  the  jester  awhile  for  that  girl's 
benefit?" 

"  I  don't  care,"  retorted  Mary.  "  I'm  not  proud, 
and  I  can  stand  the  motley  as  long  as  it  brings 
in  the  ducats.  It  isn't  the  career  I  had  planned, 
but  —  " 

She  broke  off  abruptly,  and  began  hunting  for 
her  spool  of  thread  which  had  rolled  off  into  the 
grass.     When  she   found  it  she  stitched  away  in 


THE  LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  299 

silence  as  if  she  had  forgotten  her  unfinished  sen- 
tence. 

"  What  career  did  you  have  planned,  little  sis- 
ter ? "  asked  Jack,  gently,  when  the  silence  had 
lasted  a  long  time.  She  looked  up  with  a  start 
as  if  her  thoughts  had  been  far  away,  then  said 
with  a  deprecatory  smile,  "  I  hardly  know  myself, 
Jack.  I  don't  mind  confessing  to  you,  though  I 
couldn't  to  any  one  else,  it  was  so  big  I  couldn't  see 
the  top  of  it." 

With  her  eyes  bent  on  her  sewing  she  told  him 
about  the  Voice  and  the  Vision  that  had  come  to 
her  when  she  looked  up  at  Edryn's  Window  for 
the  first  time,  and  how  she  had  been  wondering  ever 
since  what  great  duty  it  was  with  which  she  was 
to  keep  tryst  some  day. 

"  I  can  always  tell  you  things  without  fear  of  be- 
ing laughed  at,"  she  ended,  "  so  I  don't  mind  say- 
ing that  I  believed  at  the  time,  it  really  was  the 
King's  Call,  and  that  some  great  destiny,  oh  far 
greater  than  Joyce's  or  Betty's  awaited  me.  It 
seemed  so  real  I  don't  see  how  I  could  have  been 
mistaken,  and  yet  —  now  —  it  does  seem  foolish  for 
me  to  aspire  so  high.    Doesn't  it?  " 

There  was  a  little  break  in  her  voice  although 
she  ended  with  a  laugh.     Jack  watched  the  brown 


300  MARY   WARE 

head  bent  over  her  sewing  for  several  minutes  be- 
fore he  replied.  Then  he  said  in  a  grave  kind  tone 
that  Mary  always  liked,  because  it  seemed  so  inti- 
mate and  as  if  he  regarded  her  as  his  own  age, 
"  Since  I've  been  hurt,  I've  done  a  lot  of  thinking, 
and  I've  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the  highest 
thing  a  man  can  aspire  to,  and  the  blessedest,  is 
'  to  ease  the  burden  of  the  world.'  Either  con- 
sciously or  unconsciously  that  is  what  every  artist 
does  who  paints  a  master-piece.  He  helps  us  bear 
our  troubles  by  making  us  forget  them  —  at  least, 
as  long  as  the  uplift  and  the  inspiration  stay  with 
us.  Every  author  and  musician  whose  work  lives, 
does  the  same.  Every  inventor  who  creates  some- 
thing to  make  toil  easier,  and  life  happier,  eases 
that  burden  to  a  degree. 

"  So  I  don't  think  you  were  mistaken  about  that 
call.  Your  achievement  may  be  greater  than  the 
other  girls,  even  here  in  Lone-Rock,  as  much  bigger 
and  better,  as  a  whole  life  is  bigger  and  better  than 
a  few  books  and  pictures.  You've  begun  on  me, 
and  you'll  have  Marion  to  try  your  hand  on  next. 
No  telling  where  you  will  stop.  You  may  be  the 
Apostle  of  Cheerfulness  to  the  entire  far  West  be- 
fore you  are  done.     Who  knows  ?  " 

Although   the   last  words   were   spoken  lightly, 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S   CHUM  30I 

Mary  felt  the  seriousness  underlying  them,  and 
looked  up,  her  face  shining,  as  if  some  mystery  had 
suddenly  been  made  clear  to  her. 

"  Oh,  Jack !  "  she  cried.  "  You  don't  know  how 
easy  that  makes  every  thing.  I've  looked  at  life 
at  Lone-Rock  as  something  to  be  endured  merely 
as  a  stepping  stone  to  better  things.  But  if  you 
think  that  this  is  the  beginning  of  my  real  tryst,  I 
can  answer  the  call  in  such  a  different  spirit.  "  By 
the  winged  spur  of  our  ancestors,"  she  cried,  gaily 
waving  the  ruffle  she  was  hemming,  "  I'll  be 
'  Ready,  aye  ready  '  for  whatever  comes." 

Jack  did  not  go  back  to  the  office  the  first  of  Sep- 
tember. It  was  the  middle  of  the  month  before 
he  made  the  attempt.  Norman  wheeled  him  over 
Dn  his  way  to  school,  and  Mary,  standing  in  the 
ifloor  to  watch  them  start,  felt  the  tears  spring  to 
her  eyes  as  she  compared  this  pitiful  going,  to  the 
buoyant  stride  with  which  he  used  to  start  to  work. 
Still,  he  was  so  much  better  than  they  had  dared  to 
hope  he  would  be,  that  when  she  went  back  to  her 
room  she  picked  up  a  red  pencil  and  marked  the 
date  on  her  calendar  with  a  star. 

Then  she  remembered  that  this  was  the  day  the 
girls  would  be  trooping  back  to  Warwick  Hall,  and 
she  recalled  the  opening  day  the  year  before,  when 


302  MARY   WARE 

she  had  been  among  them.  She  wondered  who  was 
taking  possession  of  her  room,  and  if  the  new  girls 
would  be  as  devoted  to  Betty  as  the  old  ones  were. 
She  could  picture  them  all,  driving  up  the  avenue, 
singing  as  they  came;  then  Hawkins's  imposing  re- 
ception and  Madam  Chartley's  greeting.  How  she 
longed  to  be  in  the  bustle  of  unpacking,  and  to  make 
the  rounds  of  all  her  favourite  haunts  by  the  river 
and  in  the  beautiful  old  garden !  Dorene  and  Cornie 
wouldn't  be  there.  They  were  graduated  and  gone. 
But  Elsie  and  A.O.  and  Margaret  Elwood  and 
Betty  —  as  she  named  them  over  such  a  homesick 
pang  seized  her,  that  it  seemed  as  if  she  could  not 
bear  the  thought  of  never  going  back. 

The  thought  of  all  she  was  missing,  drove  her  as 
it  used  to  do,  to  her  shadow-chum  for  sympathy, 
and  Lloyd  was  in  her  thoughts  all  day.  Somehow, 
when  Huldah  came  back  from  the  grocery,  bring- 
ing her  a  letter  from  Lloyd,  she  was  not  at  all 
surprised,  although  it  was  the  first  one  she  had 
received  from  her  since  she  left  school,  except 
a  little  note  of  sympathy  right  after  Jack's 
accident. 

The  surprise  came  when  she  opened  the  letter. 
She  read  it  over  and  over,  and  then,  because  Jack 
was  at  the  office  and  her  mother  at  a  neighbour's, 


THE  LITTLE   COLONEL'S  CHUM  303 

she  turned  to  her  long-neglected  journal  for  a  con- 
fidante. She  had  to  hunt  through  all  the  drawers 
of  her  desk  for  it,  it  had  been  hidden  away  so  long. 
She  felt  that  the  news  in  the  letter  was  worthy 
a  place  in  her  good  times  book,  for  it  recorded 
Lloyd's  happiness,  which  was  as  dear  to  her  as  her 
own. 

"Oh,  little  Red  Book,"  she  wrote,  "what  an 
amazing  secret  I  am  going  to  give  you  to  hold! 
Lloyd  is  engaged,  and  not  to  Phil!  She  has  been 
engaged  since  last  June  to  Rob  Moore.  It  is  not  to 
be  announced  formally  until  Christmas,  and  they 
are  not  to  be  married  for  a  long  time,  but  Eugenia 
knows,  and  Joyce,  and  her  very  most  intimate 
friends.  She  wanted  me  to  know,  and  to  hear  it 
from  herself,  because  she  felt  that  no  one  could 
wish  her  joy  more  sincerely  than  her  '  little  chum.' 
I  am  so  glad  she  really  called  me  that,  after  all  my 
months  of  make  believe. 

"  But  it  was  the  surprise  of  my  life  to  find  that 
Rob  is  The  Prince  and  not  Phil.  Poor  Phil!  I 
am  sure  he  was  disappointed,  and  somehow  I  keep 
thinking  of  that  more  than  of  Lloyd's  happiness. 
I  don't  see  how  she  could  prefer  anybody  else  to  the 
Best  Man." 

Here  she  paused,   and  began  fingering  the  un- 


304  MARY   WARE 

written  leaves  of  the  diary,  wondering  if  the  time 
would  ever  come  when  they  would  hold  the  record 
of  other  engagements.  Nearly  a  third  of  the  pages 
were  still  blank.  How  many  nice  things  she  could 
think  of  that  she  would  like  to  be  able  to  write 
thereon.  Maybe  they  would  hold  the  date  of  a 
visit  to  Oaklea  some  day,  to  Mrs.  Rob  Moore.  How 
odd  that  sounded.  Or  what  was  more  probable, 
since  he  had  already  mentioned  it  in  his  letters 
to  Jack,  a  visit  from  Phil,  if  he  went  back  to 
California  with  his  father  and  Elsie  on  their 
return. 

And  maybe,  it  might  hold  the  news  of  Joyce's 
engagement,  some  day,  or  Betty's,  and  maybe  — 
some  far,  far-off  day,  it  might  hold  her  own !  That 
seemed  a  very  unlikely  thing  just  now.  Princes 
were  an  unknown  quantity  in  Lone-Rock.  And 
yet  —  she  looked  dreamily  away  across  the  hills  — 
there  were  the  words  of  that  song: 

"  And  if  he  come  not  by  the  road,  and  come  not  by  the  hill, 
And  come  not  by  the  far  seaway,  yet  come  he  surely  will. 
Close  all  the  roads  of  all  the  world,  love's  road  is  open  still." 

Seizing  her  pen,  she  wrote  just  below  her  last 
entry,  "  It  is  five  months  since  that  dismal  day  on 
the  train,  when  I  closed  the  record  in  this  book,  as 


THE  LITTLE    COLONEL'S   CHUM  305 

I  thought,  forever,  and  wrote  after  the  last  of  my 
good  times,  The  End.  But  it  wasn't  that  at  all,  and 
now,  no  matter  how  dark  the  outlook  may  be  after 
this,  I  shall  never  believe  that  I  have  reached  the 
end  to  happiness." 


THE     END, 


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SERIES  is  as  lovable  and  original  as  any  of  the  other 
creations  of  this  writer  of  charming  stories.  We  get 
little  peeps  at  the  precious  twins,  at  the  healthy  minded 
Joe  and  sweet  Marjory.  There  is  a  bungalow  party, 
which  lasts  the  entire  summer,  in  which  all  of  the 
characters  of  the  previous  MARJORY-JOE  stories 
participate,  and  their  happy  times  are  delightfully  de> 
picted. 
A— 3 


THIS  PAGE  COMPANY'S 

THE   YOUNG   PIONEER   SERIES 

By  Harrison  Adamb 

Bach    ISmo,    cloth    decorative,    illustrated,    •per 
volume $1.65 

THE  PIONEER  BOYS  OF  THE  OHIO;     Ob, 

Clearing  the  Wilderness. 

"  Such  books  as  thi3  are  an  admirable  means  of  stimu- 
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THE  PIONEER  BOYS  ON  THE  GREAT  LAKES; 

Or,  On  the  Trail  of  the  Iroquois. 

"  The  recital  of  the  daring  deeds  of  the  frontier  is  not 
only  interesting  but  instructive  as  well  and  shows  iha 
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and  trial  produced."  —  American  Tourist,  Chicago. 

THE  PIONEER  BOYS  OF  THE  MISSISSIPPI,' 

Oe,  The  Homestead  in  the  Wilderness. 
"The  story  is  told  with  spirit,  and  is  full  of  adven- 
ture."— New  York  Sun. 

THE  PIONEER  BOYS  OF  THE  MISSOURI; 

Or,  In  the  Country  of  the  Sioux. 

"  Vivid  in  style,  vigorous  in  movement,  full  of  dramatic 
situations,  true  to  historic  perspective,  this  story  is  a 
capital  one  for  boys." — Watchman  Examiner,  New  York 
City. 

THE  PIONEER  BOYS  OF  THE  YELLOW' 

STONE;    Or,  Lost  in  the  Land  of  Wonders. 
"There  is  plenty  of  lively  adventure  and  action  and 
the  story  is  well  told." — Duluth  Herald,  Duluth,  Minn. 

THE  PIONEER  BOYS  OF  THE  COLUMBIA; 

Or,  In  the  Wilderness  of  the  Great  Northwest. 

"  The  story  is  full  of  spirited  action  and  contains  mucfc 
valuable  historical  information." — Boston  Herald, 
A— 4 


BOOKS  FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE 


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By  Hahriet  Lummis  Smith 
Each  one  volume,  cloth,  decorative,  12mo,  illus- 
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THE  GIRLS   OF  FRIENDLY  TERRACE 

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out,  and  most  of  all  it  proves  that  in  daily  life,  threads 
of  wonderful  issues  are  being  woven  in  with  what 
appears  the  most  ordinary  of  material,  but  which  in 
the  end  brings  results  stranger  than  the  most  thrilling 
fiction." — Belle  Kellogg  Towne  in  The  Young  People's 
Weekly,  Chicago. 

PEGGY  RAYMOND'S   VACATION 

"It  is  a  clean,  wholesome,  hearty  story,  well  told 
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that  hearten  and  brighten  the  day." — Vtica,  N.  Y„ 
Observer. 

PEGGY   RAYMOND'S    SCHOOL   DAYS 

"  It  is  a  bright,  entertaining  story,  with  happy  girls, 
good  times,  natural  development,  and  a  gentle  earnest- 
ness of  general  tone." — The  Christian  Register,  Boston. 

THE  FRIENDLY  TERRACE  QUARTETTE 

"The  story  is  told  in  easy  and  entertaining  style 
and  is  a  most  delightful  narrative,  especially  for  young 
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for  while  reading  it  they  will  surely  live  again  in  the 
days  of  their  youth." — Troy  Budget. 

PEGGY  RAYMOND'S  WAY 

"  The  author  has  again  produced  a  story  that  is 
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more  lovable  than  ever  as  a  companion  and  leader." 
— World  of  Books. 

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324  pages  it  weaves   a  tale   of  love   and   of   adventure 
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American. 
A— 5 


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"  More  of  such  books  should  be  written,  books  that 
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FAMOUS  INDIAN  CHIEFS 

"  Mr.  Johnston  has  done  faithful  work  in  this  volume, 
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—  New  York  Marine  Journal. 

FAMOUS  SCOUTS 

"  It  is  the  kind  of  a  book  that  will  have  a  great  fascina- 
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TURERS OF  THE  SEA 

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THE  BORDER 

"The  accounts  are  not  only  authentic,  but  distinctly 
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the  history  of  actual  adventure."  —  Cleveland  Leader. 

FAMOUS  DISCOVERERS  AND  EXPLORERS 
OF  AMERICA 

"The  book  is  an  epitome  of  some  of  the  wildest  and 
bravest  adventures  of  which  the  world  has  known."  — 
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FAMOUS  GENERALS  OF  THE  GREAT  WAR 

Who  Led  the  United  States  and  Her  Allies  to  a  Glo- 
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ter  Post  Express. 
A— 6 


BOOKS  FOR  YOUNO  PEOPLE 


FAMOUS   LEADERS  SERIES  (Con.) 

By  Edwin  Wildman 

FAMOUS  LEADERS  OF  INDUSTRY.— First 
Series 

"Are  these  stories  interesting?  Let  a  boy  read  them;  and 
tell  you." — Boston  Transcript. 

FAMOUS  LEADERS  OF  INDUSTRY.— Second 
Series 

"As  fascinating  as  fiction  are  these  biographies,  which  em- 
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just  as  every  soldier  of  Napoleon  carried  a  marshal's  baton  in 
his  knapsack,  so  every  American  youngster  carries  potential 
success  under  his  hat." — New  York  World. 

THE  FOUNDERS  OF  AMERICA  (Lives  of  Great 
Americans  from  the  Revolution  to  the  Monroe 
Doctrine) 

"How  can  one  become  acquainted  with  the  histories  of  some 
of  the  famous  men  of  the  United  States?  A  very  good  way  is  to 
read  'The  Founders  of  America,'  by  Edwin  Wildman,  wherein 
the  life  stories  of  fifteen  men  who  founded  our  country  are 
told." — New  York  Post. 

FAMOUS  LEADERS  OF  CHARACTER  (Lives  of 
Great  Americans  from  the  Civil  War  to  Today) 

"An  informing,  interesting  and  inspiring  book  for  boys." — 
Presbyterian  Banner. 

".  .  .  Is  a  book  that  should  be  read  by  every  boy  in  the 
whole  country.  .  .  ." — Atlanta  Constitution. 

FAMOUS  AMERICAN  NAVAL  OFFICERS 
With  a  complete  index. 

By  Charles  Lee  Lewis 
Professor,  United  States  Naval  Academy,  Annapolis 
"Professor  Lewis  does  not  make  the  mistake  of  bringing  to- 
gether simply  a  collection  of  biographical  sketches.  In  con- 
nection with  the  life  of  John  Paul  Jones,  Stephen  Decatur, 
and  other  famous  naval  officers,  he  groups  the  events  of  the 
period  in  which  the  officer  distinguished  himself,  and  combines 
the  whole  into  a  colorful  and  stirring  narrative." — Boston 
Herald. 
A— 7 


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STORIES  BY  EVALEEN  STEIN 

Each,  one  volume,  cloth  decorative,  12mo,  illustrated, 
with  a  jacket  in  color      $1.65 

THE  CHRISTMAS  PORRINGER 

This  story  happened  many  hundreds  of  years  ago  in  the 
quaint  Flemish  city  of  Bruges  and  concerns  a  little  girl  named 
Karen,  who  worked  at  lace-making  with  her  aged  grand- 
mother. 

GABRIEL  AND  THE  HOUR  BOOK 

"No  works  in  juvenile  fiction  contain  so  many  of  the  ele- 
ments that  stir  the  hearts  of  children  and  grown-ups  as  well  as 
do  the  stories  so  admirably  told  by  this  author." — Louisville 
Daily  Courier. 

A  LITTLE  SHEPHERD  OF  PROVENCE 

"The  story  should  be  one  of  the  influences  in  the  life  of  every 
child  to  whom  good  stories  can  be  made  to  appeal." — Public 

Ledger. 

THE  LITTLE  COUNT  OF  NORMANDY 

"This  touching  and  pleasing  story  is  told  with  a  wealth  of 
interest  coupled  with  enlivening  descriptions  of  the  country 
where  its  scenes  are  laid  and  of  the  people  thereof." — Wilming- 
ton Every  Evening. 

WHEN  FAIRIES  WERE  FRIENDLY 

"The  stories  are  music  in  prose — they  are  like  pearls  on  a 
chain  of  gold— each  word  seems  exactly  the  right  word  in  the 
right  place;  the  stories  sing  themselves  out,  they  are  so  beauti- 
fully expressed." — The  Lafayette  Leader. 

PEPIN:  A  Tale  of  Twelfth  Night 

"This  retelling  of  an  old  Twelfth  Night  romance  is  a  creation 
almost  as  perfect  as  her  'Christmas  Porringer.' " — Lexington 
Herald. 
A— 8 


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THE  HADLEY  HALL  SERIES 

By  Louise  M.  Breitenbach 
Each  large  12mo,  cloth   decorative,  illustrated, 
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ALMA  AT  HADLEY  HALL 

"  The  author  is  to  be  congratulated  on  having  written 
such  an  appealing  book  for  girls."  —  Detroit  Free  Press. 

ALMA'S  SOPHOMORE  YEAR 

"  It  cannot  fail  to  appeal  to  the  lovers  of  good  things 
in  girls'  books."  —  Boston  Herald. 

ALMA'S  JUNIOR  YEAR 

"  The  diverse  characters  in  the  boarding-school  are 
strongly  drawn,  the  incidents  are  well  developed  and  the 
action  is  never  dull."  —  The  Boston  Herald. 

ALMA'S  SENIOR  YEAR 

"  A  health}',  natural  atmosphere  breathes  from  every 
chapter."  —  Boston  Transcript. 


DOCTOR'S  LITTLE  GIRL  SERIES 

By  Mariox  Ames  Taggart 
Each  large  12mo,  cloth,  illustrated,  per  volume,    31-75 

THE   DOCTOR'S  LITTLE   GIRL 

"A  charming  story  of  the  ups  and  downs  of  the  life 
of  a  dear  little  maid." — The  Churchman. 

SWEET    NANCY:     The   Further  Adventures  or 

the  Doctor's  Little  Girl. 

"Just  the  sort  of  book  to  amuse,  while  its  influence 
cannot  but  be  elevating." — New  York  Sun. 

NANCY,  THE  DOCTOR'S  LITTLE  PARTNER 

"  The   jtory   is   sweet  and   fascinating,  such   as   many 
girls  of  wholesome  tastes  will  enjoy." — Springfield  Union. 

NANCY  PORTER'S  OPPORTUNITY 

"  Nancy  shows  throughout  that  she  is  a  splendid  young 
woman,  with  plenty  of  pluck." — Boston-  Globe. 

NANCY  AND  THE  COGGS  TWINS 

"  The  story  is  refreshing." — New  York  Sun. 

A— 9 


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IDEAL  BOOKS  FOR  GIRLS 

Each,  one  volume,  cloth  decorative,  12mo,       .     $1.10 

A  LITTLE  CANDY  BOOK  FOR  A  LITTLE  GIRL 

By  Amy  L.  Waterman. 

"  This  is  a  peculiarly  interesting  little  book,  written  in 
the  simple,  vivacious  style  that  makes  these  little  manuals 
as  delightful  to  read  as  they  are  instructive."  —  Nash- 
ville Tennessean  and  American. 

A  LITTLE  COOK-BOOK  FOR  A  LITTLE  GIRL 

By  Caroline  French  Benxon. 

This  book  explains  how  to  cook  so  simply  that  no  one 
can    fail  to   understand   every   word,    even   a   complete 
novice. 
A   LITTLE   HOUSEKEEPING   BOOK   FOR    A 

LITTLE  GIRL 

By  Caroline  French  Benton. 

A  little  girl,  home  from  school  on  Saturday  mornings, 
finds  out  how  to  make  helpful  use  of  her  spare  time,  an4 
also  how  to  take  proper  pride  and  pleasure  in  good 
housework. 

A  LITTLE  SEWING  BOOK  FOR  A  LITTLE 
GIRL 

By  Louise  Frances  Cornell. 

"  It  is  comprehensive  and  practical,  and  yet  revealingly 
instructive.  It  takes  a  little  girl  who  lives  alone  with 
her  mother,  and  shows  how  her  mother  taught  her  the 
art  of  sewing  in  its  various  branches.  The  illustrations 
aid  materially."  —  Wilmington  Every  Evening. 

A    LITTLE    PRESERVING    BOOK    FOR    A 
LITTLE   GIRL 

By  Amy  L.  Waterman. 

In  simple,  clear  wording,  Mrs.  Waterman  explains 
every  step  of  the  process  of  preserving  or  "canning" 
fruits   and  vegetables. 

A  LITTLE  GARDENING  BOOK  FOR  A  LITTLE 
GIRL 

By  Peter  Martin. 

This  little  volume  is  an  excellent  guide  for  the  young 
gardener.    In  addition  to  truck  gardening,  the  book  gives 
valuable   information   on   flowers,   the   planning   of  the 
<rarden,  selection  of  varieties,  etc. 
A  — 10 


BOOKS  FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE 


THE  SANDMAN  SERIES 

Each  large  12mo,  cloth  decorative,  illustrated,  per 
volume       $1.75 

By  William  J.  Hopkins 
THE    SANDMAN:      His  Farm  Stories. 

"  Mothers  and  fathers  and  kind  elder  sisters  who  take 
the  little  ones  to  bed  and  rack  their  brains  for  stories 
will  find  this  book  a  treasure." —  Cleveland  Leader. 

THE    SANDMAN:      More  Farm  Stories. 

"  Children  will  call  for  these  stories  over  and  over 
again." —  Chicago  Evening  Post. 

THE    SANDMAN:      His  Ship  Stories. 

"  Little  ones  will  understand  and  delight  in  the  stories 
and  their  parents  will  read  between  the  lines  and  recog- 
nize the  poetic  and  artistic  work  of  the  author." — 
Indianapolis  News. 

THE    SANDMAN:      His  Sea  Stories. 

"  Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  man  who  knew  little 
children  and  the  kind  of  stories  they  liked,  so  he  wrote 
four  books  of  Sandman's  stories,  all  about  the  farm  or 
the  sea,  and  the  brig  Industry,  and  this  book  is  one  of 
them." —  Canadian  Congregationalist. 

By  Jenny  Wallis 

THE    SANDMAN:      His  Songs  and  Rhymes. 

"  Here  is  a  fine  collection  of  poems  for  mothers  and 
friends  to  use  at  the  twilight  hour.  They  are  not  of  the 
soporific  kind  especially.  They  are  wholesome  reading 
when  most  wide-awake  and  of  such  a  soothing  and  de- 
licious flavor  that  they  are  welcome  when  the  lights  are 
low." —  Christian  Intelligencer. 

By  Helen  I.  Castella 

THE  SANDMAN :    His  Fairy  Stories. 

This  time  the  Sandman  comes  in  person,  and  takes 
little  Joyce,  who  believes  in  him,  to  the  wonderful  land 
of  Nod.  There  they  procure  pots  and  pans  from  the 
pansy  bed,  a  goose  from  the  gooseberry  bush,  a  chick 
from  the  chickweed,  corn  from  the  cornflower,  and  eat 
on  a  box  from  the  boxwood  hedge.  They  have  almost 
at  many  adventures  as  Alice  in  Wonderland. 
A— 11 


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THE  SANDMAN  SERIES 

(continued) 

By  Harry  W.  Frees 

THE    SANDMAN :  His  Animal  Stories. 

"The  simplicity  of  the  stories  and  the  fascinating  manner 
in  which  they  are  written  make  them  an  excellent  night-cap 
for  the  youngster  who  is  easily  excited  into  wakefulness."  — 
Pittsburgh  Leader. 

THE    SANDMAN:  His  Kittycat  Stories. 

"The  Sandman  is  a  wonderful  fellow.  First  he  told  farm 
stories,  then  ship  stories,  then  sea  stories.  And  now  he  tells 
stcies  about  the  kittens  and  the  fun  they  had  in  Kittycat 
Town.  A  strange  thing  about  these  kittens  is  the  ability  to 
talk,  work  and  play  like  boys  and  girls,  and  that  is  why  all  of 
the  little  tots  will  like  the  Sandman's  book."  —  Pittsburgh 
Chronicle  Telegraph. 

THE    SANDMAN:  His  Bunny  Stories. 

"The  whole  book  is  filled  with  one  tale  after  another  and  is 
narrated  in  such  a  pleasing  manner  as  to  reach  the  heart  of 
every  child."  —  Common  Sense,  Chicago. 

THE    SANDMAN:  His  Puppy  Stories. 

Another  volume  of  Mr.  Frees'  inimitable  stories  for  tiny 
tots,  this  time  about  the  "doggie  mothers  who  lived  with 
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Land.  The  illustrations  are  from  photographs  posed  by  the 
author  with  the  same  appeal  which  has  characterized  his 
previous  pictures. 

By  W.  S.  Phillips 
(El  Comancho) 
THE    SANDMAN:  His  Indian  Stories. 

The  Indian  tales  for  this  Celebrated  Series  of  Children's 
Bedtime  Stories  have  been  written  by  a  man  who  has  Indian 
blood,  who  spent  years  of  his  life  among  the  Redmen,  in  one 
of  the  tribes  of  which  he  is  an  honored  member,  and  who  is  an 
expert  interpreter  of  the  Indian  viewpoint  and  a  practised 
authority  on  Indians  as  well  as<a  master  teller  of  tales. 
A— 12 


%ooks  for  tormct  PEOPLE 


HILDEGARDE- MARGARET  SERIES 

By  Laura  E.  Richards 

Eleven  Volumes 

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LIST  OF  TITLES 
QUEEN  HILDEGARDE 
HILDEGARDE 'S  HOLIDAY 
HILDEGARDE'S    HOME 
HILDEGARDE'S   NEIGHBORS 
HILDEGARDE'S   HARVEST 
THREE  MARGARETS 
MARGARET  MONTFORT 
PEGGY 
RITA 

FERNLEY  HOUSE 
THE  MERRYWEATHERS 

A— 13 


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DELIGHTFUL  BOOKS  FOR  LITTLE 
FOLKS 

By  Lauba  E.  Richards 

THREE  MINUTE  STORIES 

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FIVE  MINUTE  STORIES 

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A    charming   collection   of   short    stories    and   clever 

poems  for  children. 

MORE  FIVE  MINUTE  STORIES 

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FIVE  MICE  IN  A  MOUSE  TRAP 

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The  story  of  their  lives  and  other  wonderful  things 
related  by  the  Man  in  the  Moon,  done  in  the  vernacular 
from  the  lunacular  form  by  Laura  E.  Richards. 


A  NEW  BOOK  FOR  GIRLS 

By  Lauba  E.  Richards 

HONOR  BRIGHT 

Cloth  decorative,  12mo,  illustrated  .  .  .  §1.75 
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est heroine  of  a  talented  author  who  has  created  many 
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Pension  Madeline  in  Vevey,  Switzerland,  surrounded  by 
playmates  of  half  a  dozen  nationalities.  As  are  all  of 
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in  young  as  in  old. 
A— 14 


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THE   LITTLE  COLONEL   BOOKS 

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THE  LITTLE  COLONEL  STORIES 

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THE     LITTLE     COLONEL'S     CHRISTMAS 

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THE  LITTLE  COLONEL,  MAID  OF  HONOR 

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RIDING 
THE    LITTLE    COLONEL'S     CHUM,    MARY 

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MARY  WARE  IN  TEXAS 

MARY  WARE'S  PROMISED  LAND 

These  twelve  volumes,  boxed  as  a  set,  $22. 80. 
A— 15 


TEE  PAGE  COMPANY'S 


THE  ROAD  OF  THE  LOVING  HEART 

Cloth    decorative,    with    special    designs    and 

illustrations $1.25 

In  choosing  her  title,  Mrs.  Johnston  had  in  mind 
"  The  Road  of  the  Loving  Heart,"  that  famous  high- 
way, built  by  the  natives  of  Hawaii,  from  their  settle- 
ment to  the  home  of  Robert  Louis  Stevenson,  as  a 
memorial  of  their  love  and  respect  for  the  man  who 
lived  and  labored  among  them,  and  whose  example  of 
a  loving  heart  has  never  been  forgotten.  This  story  of 
a  little  princess  and  her  faithful  pet  bear,  who  finally 
do  discover  "  The  Road  of  the  Loving  Heart,"  is  a  mas- 
terpiece of  sympathy  and  understanding  and  beautiful 
thought. 

THE  JOHNSTON  JEWEL  SERIES 

Each  small  16mo,  decorative,  with  frontispiece  and  deco- 
rative text   borders,   per  volume $0.75 

IN  THE  DESERT  OF  WAITING:  The  Legend 
of  Camelback  Mountain. 

THE  THREE  WEAVERS:  A  Fairy  Tale  for 
Fathers  and  Mothers  as  Well  as  for  Their 
Daughters. 

KEEPING   TRYST:    A  Tate  op  Kistg  Arthur's  Time. 

THE  LEGEND  OF  THE  BLEEDING  HEART 

THE  RESCUE  OF  PRINCESS  WINSOME: 

A  Fairy  Play  for  Old  and  Young. 

THE  JESTER'S  SWORD 


THE     LITTLE     COLONEL'S     GOOD     TIMES 
BOOK 

Uniform  in  size  with  the  Little  Colonel  Series  .     $2.50 
Bound  in  white  kid   (morocco)   and  gold   .        .       6.60 
Cover  design  and  decorations  by  Peter  Verberg. 
"  A  mighty  attractive  volume  in  which  the  owner  may 
recerd  the  good  times  she  has  on  decorated  pages,  and 
under  the  directions  as  it  were  of  Annie  Fellows  John- 
ston."—  Buffalo  Express. 
A— 16, 


BOOKS  FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE 


THE  BOYS'  STORY  OF  THE 
RAILROAD  SERIES 

By  Burton  E.  Stevenson 
Each   large  12mo,   cloth   decorative,   illustrated, 
per  volume $1.75 

THE  YOUNG  SECTION-HAND;     Or,    The    Ad- 

VENTURES  OF  ALLAN   WeST. 

"  The  whole  range  of  section  railroading  is  covered  in 
the  story." —  Chicago  Post. 

THE  YOUNG  TRAIN  DISPATCHER 

"  A  vivacious  account  of  the  varied  and  often  hazard- 
ous nature  of  railroad  life." —  Congrcgationalist. 

THE  YOUNG  TRAIN  MASTER 

"  It  is  a  book  that  can  be  unreservedly  commended  to 
anyone  who  loves  a  good,  wholesome,  thrilling,  informing 
yarn." —  Passaic  News. 

THE    YOUNG   APPRENTICE;    Or,  Allan  Wests 
Chum. 
"The  story  is  intensely  interesting." — Baltimore  Sun. 

BOY  SCOUT  STORIES 

By  Brewer  Corcoran 
Published  with  the  approval  of  "  The  Boy  Scouts  of 
America." 

Each,  one  volume,  l2mo,  cloth  decorative,  illus- 
trated, per  volume      .  $1.75 

THE  BOY  SCOUTS  OF  KENDALLVILLE 

The  story  of  a  bright  young  factory  worker  who  can- 
not enlist,  but  his  knowledge  of  woodcraft  and  wig- 
wagging, gained  through  Scout  practice,  enables  him  to 
foil  a  German  plot  to  blow  up  the  munitions  factory. 

THE  BOY  SCOUTS  OF  THE  WOLF  PATROL 

The  boys  of  Gilmeld  who  were  not  old  enough  to  go 
to  war  found  just  as  many  thrills  at  home,  chasing  a 
German  spy. 

THE  BOY  SCOUTS  AT  CAMP  LOWELL 

"  The  best  book  for  boys  I  have  ever  read ! "  says  our 
editor.  Mr.  Corcoran  has  again  found  enough  exciting 
material  to  keep  the  plot  humming  from  cover  to  cover. 
A— 17 


THE  PAGE  COMPANY'S 


THE  LITTLE  COUSIN  SERIES 

(trade  mark) 

Each    volume    illustrated    with   six    or   more    full    page 

plates  in  tint.     Cloth,  12mo,  with  decorative 

cover,  per  volume,  $1.00 

LIST  OF  TITLES 

By  Col.  F.  A.  Postnikov,  Isaac  Taylor 

Headland,  LL.  D.,  Edward  C. 

Butler,  etc. 

Our  Little  African  Cousin       Our  Little  Indian  Cousin 
Our  Little  Alaskan  Cousin      Our  Little  Irish  Cousin 
Our  Little  Arabian  Cousin     Our  Little  Italian  Cousin 
Our  Little  Argentine  Cousin  Our  Little  Japanese  Cousin 
Our  Little  Armenian  Cousin  Our  Little  Jewish  Cousin 
Our  Little  Australian  Cousin  Our  Little  Jugoslav  Cousin 
Our  Little  Austrian  Cousin     Our  Little  Korean  Cousin 
Our  Little  Belgian  Cousin       Our  Little  Malayan  (Brown) 
Our  Little  Bohemian  Cousin         Cousin 
Our  Little  Brazilian  Cousin    Our  Little  Mexican  Cousin 
Our  Little  Bulgarian  Cousin  Our  Little  Norwegian  Cousin 
Our  Little  Canadian  Cousin    Our  Little  Panama  Cousin 

of  the  Great  Northwest      Our  Little  Persian  Cousin 
Our  Little  Canadian  Cousin    Our  Little  Philippine  Cousin 

of  the  Maritime  Provinces  Our  Little  Polish  Cousin 


Our  Little  Chinese  Cousin 
Our  Little  Cossack  Cousin 
Our  Little  Cuban  Cousin 
Our  Little  Czecho-Slovak 

Cousin 
Our  Little  Danish  Cousin 
Our  Little  Dutch  Cousin 
Our  Little  Egyptian  Cousin 
Our  Little  English  Cousin 
Our  Little  Eskimo  Cousin 
Our  Little  Finnish  Cousin 
Our  Little  French  Cousin 
Our  Little  German  Cousin 
Our  Little  Grecian  Cousin 
Our  Little  Hawaiian  Cousin 
Our  Little  Hindu  Cousin 
Our  Little  Hungarian  Cousin 
A— 18 


Our  Little  Porto  Rican  Cousin 
Our  Little  Portuguese  Cousin 
Our  Little  Quebec  Cousin 
Our  Little  Roumanian  Cousin 
Our  Little  Russian  Cousin 
Our  Little  Scotch  Cousin 
Our  Little  Servian  Cousin 
Our  Little  Siamese  Cousin 
Our  Little  South  African 

(Boer)  Cousin 
Our  Little  Spanish  Cousin 
Our  Little  Swedish  Cousin 
Our  Little  Swiss  Cousin 
Our  Little  Turkish  Cousin 
Our  Little  Welsh  Cousin 
Our  Little  West  Indian 

Cousin 


